


I'll Follow You Into the Dark

by allmadeofstardust



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassination Plot(s), Betrayal, Enemies to Lovers, Kinda, M/M, Political Intrigue, Research, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents, What's sexier than wizards? Nothing!, dunamancy, i took a LOT of liberties with the rules of Dunamancy, like honestly these two are nerds and I love them, original lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 43,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmadeofstardust/pseuds/allmadeofstardust
Summary: Caleb Widogast sacrificed it all for the sake of the Empire's last hope - to take down the Cerberus Assembly from the inside out.Essek Thelyss harbors a secret - one that can tear apart the entirety of the Dynasty.The two of them have a conflict of interests, or so it would seem.  They shouldn't risk their own goals.  They shouldn't allow themselves to be manipulated by the other.And theycertainlyshouldn't fall for each other.The thing about existing as a double agent is that things never quite seem to go your way.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 53
Kudos: 116





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> And here it is, my first Shadowgast fic, and what must it be other than a Spy AU. TBD how long this monstrosity is going to be, but I promise I actually have an outline.  
> Look, Liam O'Brien said the words "star-crossed lovers" and "spymasters" and I eagerly awaited someone to write this thing, but nobody did. Guess I have to do things myself.

Caleb Widogast considered himself smarter than his past self ever was. Wiser, fuller, and more aware of his own atrocities than ever. He was by far the most intelligent out of the Nein, and though he would never say as much to his friends, he knew it was true. He knew it every day, as they fought their tiny insignificant battles, as they tried to make sense of the rising wave of intrigue and power that threatened to wash them all away like krill in a whale’s mouth. Puny. Unimportant.

The Assembly had become too much of a threat. They all knew this, even those who didn’t truly know the weight of that statement. They needed information. And he knew how to get it.

Caleb Widogast, just a few short months ago, would have turned and ran at the very thought. Buried himself in the anonymity of dirt and grime and theft and homelessness. He doubted, even, that he would have taken Nott with him. He would have been so desperate to get away, to run and run and run until he could observe the Assembly’s tricks from afar.

But now, people relied on him. Not just the Nein. An entire nation. The whole of his homeland was putting their faith in the idea that some way,  _ somehow _ , he could stop them from consuming the Empire whole from the inside out.

So, as all dangerous and fatal plans begin, he got an idea.

He didn’t disclose it to everyone right away. He let it stew, fester, rot inside his brain, hoping against hope that it would purge itself away, but instead it clung to his mind like decaying fungus, all matted and decomposed, refusing to let up, until finally after days of tossing and turning in fitful sleep, he awoke gasping in the middle of the night and went to wake Nott.

She groaned at his insistent shaking of her shoulder before her eyes fell on his wild and crazed face, and she sat bolt upright.

“What is it,” she demanded, curling up next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“A proposition.”

And so she heard him out, watching him with increasingly concerned eyes, but she  _ listened _ , and that was what made her such a good friend.

“Caleb,” she finally said, voice barely a whisper. “Are you  _ sure _ ?”

He hesitated, if for a second, just to look at her face. Her yellow eyes stared up at him, reflecting fear and panic, but also resignation. She knew it too - it was the best option.

“Should I tell the others?” she asked.

Caleb shook his head.

“Let them find out after it’s done.” He laughed quietly, bitterly. “So they do not stop me.”

“Do you want  _ me _ to stop you?” It was a genuine question.

“ _ Nein _ .” He said the word with finality, and he felt the world shift, if just for a second. This was what was needed, and he would see it through to the end.

The bitter, gruesome, possibly (and probably) fatal end.

Nott took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“We’ll be with you, Caleb. Every step of the way, we’ll be here.”

“ _ Ja _ . I know.”

So it was that night, while the rest of the Nein slept, that Caleb Widogast gathered his things and departed from his friends. They would wake up the following morning wondering where their resident wizard had gone. His goblin friend would stay silent. Beau would suspect from the beginning, but wouldn’t confirm her suspicions until much later.

Until Bren Aldric Ermendrud knocked on the door of Trent Ikithon’s tower.

He was slow to respond, his old mentor. But when he did appear, there was not an ounce of surprise on his face. Instead, a cold smile indicative of genuine pleasure crested his lips.

“Bren,” he said coolly. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“ _ Ich bin nach Hause zurückgekehrt,” _ Bren said, bowing his head.

Caleb Widogast tucked himself away in the corner of Bren’s mind, content to bide his time. Wait.

He watched himself follow Ikithon inside.

It was the last truly independent thought he had.


	2. Wicked Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first time writing Essek and i'm absolutely LOVING it.

Essek hated frivolities. They were meaningless, a pointless way that one could kiss someone’s cheek while simultaneously holding a knife behind their back. It was all the same, these greetings, these ways of interacting that left him wishing to leave the room entirely, if only so that he could have a chance to breathe and be himself.

Ha.  _ Himself _ . Now there was a funny thought. He hadn’t had a chance to be himself in a  _ very _ long time.

Still, he had to remain loyal. He enjoyed playing his part, settling into the roles he could take freely. He partook in frivolities for the sake of the deception, for that was one thing he excelled at.

In his small defense, he hadn’t initially realized what a fuss the beacons would cause. Of course, that by no means excused him from the consequences, but what consequences? Ludinus had long since promised him that he was absolved from any issues, if there  _ were _ any issues. He had fall men and  _ they _ had fall men, and all Essek would see was the rewards. The knowledge, the intellect. It had become Essek’s obsession lately, the tiny trickle of information he received from Ludinus as his research continued. It was truly amazing what one small little object could do. What its potential was.

Who cared if the Dynasty took a blow? Essek would quickly right it with everything he could learn. Who cared if a war brewed in the distance? A few petty squabbles were nothing compared to the riches he would learn.

He laughed at himself, sometimes, at how childish he was. Sure, he had over a hundred years under his belt, but when all he did was bat at the new and exciting shiny thing in the air, how old was he really? He remembered a time when he was young, well before he had even broken into his own studies, when an older member of his den had come home with a spellbook under their arm. They had locked it away in their own room, and Essek, in all his young and spiteful glory, had snuck into the cabinet and stolen it, bringing it back to his bed so he could stare at the pages in wonder. He wasn’t even sure he had been old enough to read it properly, just that the runes on the pages and the words in a foreign tongue brought with them a sense of awe.

He had always been that child, so focused on understanding the latest magics, the most interesting phenomena. Was it any wonder he was willing to throw the fragile peace of two entire nations into the mud for the sake of it?

No. No it wasn’t.

All that mattered now was keeping his position, a role he found almost too easy. Smile here, shake hands there, attend to the Bright Queen whenever she needed it. His betrayal was hidden under rugs that were under floorboards of stone and steel, all of which was in the basement of a house he had long since thrown away the key to.

He was safe, and that’s how he liked it.

Today, Essek stood by the Bright Queen’s side, passively watching her greet those in her court. He grew bored of these meetings rather quickly, so when the question was first passed his way, it took a moment for him to register the query was to him and not the man kneeling at the foot of the Queen’s throne.

“Shadowhand,” she asked, forced politeness in her tone. “I asked what your thoughts were on Lord Ferris’ request.”

“Certainly, my queen,” Essek said, bowing. “Would Lord Ferris care to elaborate on the idea of…”

“A gala,” the man clarified. “I have recently been speaking to my associates in Rexxentrum - ”

A small murmur of disapproval went around the court, but it was silenced by the Bright Queen’s hand.

“ - and some of them are talking of initiating some form of a peaceable solution to the...tension.”

The Queen shook her head sadly.

“I do not believe that King Dwendal would be willing to - ”

“If I may, your grace,” Ferris continued, oblivious to the rudeness of his interruption. “This possible peace arrangement has not been suggested by the King.”

“Who, then?”

“The Cerberus Assembly.”

Essek was proud of the fact that he managed to not even bat an eyelash at the name, despite the chill that insisted on crawling up his spine. There were again murmurs throughout the court, but the Queen ignored them in favor of turning towards Essek.

“Well, Shadowhand?”

He cleared his throat.

“What business does the Assembly have with the Dynasty?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Much business,” Ferris answered, somewhat indignant. “They are close to the king, as you know, and are arguably just as powerful. They wish to broker a truce of sorts with the Dynasty while they can.”

“And what, pray tell, do they expect in return?” the Queen demanded.

“Apologies, your grace,” Ferris said. “They simply requested knowledge.”

The Queen considered this. Essek spoke up.

“My Queen, from what we know of the Assembly, this supposed  _ gala _ would not be a particularly stable form of brokering peace negotiations.”

She sighed.

“And yet it is still a sign of peace nonetheless.” Her hand tightened on her staff. “Would you recommend putting forth this measure?”

Essek took a deep breath. He knew the Assembly was only after what they claimed to be - they had no stake in the war’s end. Essek had certainly seen that. But he could not turn down a supposed brokerage of peace so publically, not if he wished for his own secrets to stay in their locked house.

“I do, your grace,” he replied smoothly. “Though I would recommend the use of caution.”

“Very well, then.” She straightened up. “Have your associates pass on the message, and I will put in a formal correspondence that the Dynasty accepts.”

Essek turned back to Lord Ferris, who looked slightly relieved at the Queen’s words.

“Which Assembly members are going to be present at this gala?”

“They were the ones organizing the event, not actively engaging.”

The Queen scoffed.

“But there will be one member present!” Ferris added, eager to look good in front of his queen.

“Who, then?” Essek asked.

“Archmage Caleb Widogast.”

Essek blinked, and narrowed his eyes.

“I am not familiar,” he said, frowning.

“I would suppose as much,” Ferris reassured him. “He was only recently accepted into their ranks.”

This set off Essek’s suspicions immediately. If this Caleb Widogast was not even a member of the Assembly when Essek had last properly interacted with it - when he gave them the beacon, and made his choice to turn against the Dynasty - then he could very much indeed be a problem.

A problem, clearly, he’d have to solve himself, and later, as now all eyes were on him. He nodded slowly.

“Then we shall welcome Mage Widogast to the Dynasty with open arms.”

The Queen seemed satisfied with this, and gestured for Lord Ferris to depart. The man bowed and left, and the Queen leaned heavily against her staff.

“Shadowhand,” she said quietly, so that the rest of the court could not hear. “I do hope that your judgement here is correct.”

“I will be the utmost careful, your grace. I have dealt with the Assembly before. A new mage does not frighten me.”

The Bright Queen smiled, and turned back to her court. Essek resumed his post, but he had to catch himself before his face could betray his internal emotion. He was worried. Beyond worried. A new mage meant trouble. A new mage meant questions. Caleb Widogast may very well find the key to that house, and Essek had to keep him from coming inside.

He mentally shook his head, chiding himself. What was one measly mage, when he had encountered a dozen others? What was one new Assembly member, when the rest had been so easy to navigate?

He straightened his posture, looked ahead, and reassured himself that whoever this new man was, he could handle him.

How difficult could he possibly be?


	3. Hardest of Hearts

The funny thing was how easy it was.

Caleb thought it fitting. How swiftly he could slip back into his old skin. All the habits, all the mannerisms. He had never really left, as Ikithon put it. He had just taken a small detour.

At least, that’s what he wanted the old wizard to think. And it was so funny how simple that trick was. That tiny little fib. He smiled when bidden. Spoke only when spoken too. And by braving the mental halls of the old demonic school in his head, he was able to craft himself a ruse so naturally fabricated that it didn’t present itself as a ruse at all. Merely a path that Caleb took that led him back to Ikithon.

To the Assembly.

It was sickening how swiftly Ikithon accepted everything as truth. But it placed Caleb exactly where he needed to be.

*****

It had been six months since he had first arrived back into Ikithon’s folds, yet it had taken as long to get any closer to the inner workings of the Assembly than the Nein had already been. Ikithon was smart, and he played his cards excellently, keeping Caleb at a safe distance until he deemed him trustworthy enough to bring him closer. But six months was nothing in the grand scheme of things, not to Ikithon. In fact, Caleb had suspected it would be at least thrice that time before he got to fully interact with anyone beyond his teacher.

And yet here he was, standing outside the doors of the main meeting hall, moments before what Ikithon had described as an “important matter of business.” The mage rarely threw words like that around lightly, so as Ikithon drew level with him, Caleb gripped his arms - both of which were folded neatly behind him - tightly in his fingers. He adjusted his stance to ensure his back was straight, and stared at the door until Ikithon drifted into his view.

“I have high expectations for you in there, Bren,” he said, his words strict but his tone sounding almost bored. “I do not bring you to this meeting hall  _ lightly _ .”

“I understand,” Caleb responded.

“Good. Stay silent, and stay attentive.”

He turned without waiting for a response and knocked on the door. The place where his knuckle hit illuminated with a short flash of arcane runes, which quickly spiraled outwards almost too fast for Caleb to see them. The lock dispelled, and the door swung open.

Caleb followed Ikithon inside, and blinked as a fierce beam of sunlight shone through the large extravagant windows that made up half of the hall. The glass panes stretched from the floor to the ceiling, curving with the roof above until they merged with the brick. They were carved with intricate symbols and designs, some of which Caleb recognized and some of which looked to be simple aesthetic touch, and the view was breathtaking. The city stretched out in front of him, meandering streets and tall towers, all on the outside of this magnificent hall where the Empire’s greatest mages seemingly ignored it, as they turned their faces towards Ikithon and Caleb as they entered. They were seated in individual chairs, loosely arranged around a large wooden table that Caleb thought was the Assembly’s cheap attempt at making everyone feel equal.

“You are late, Master Ikithon,” an elven man with thin silver hair announced sternly. Caleb let his eyes briefly glance over to him - he looked much,  _ much _ older than his appearances let on - Caleb could see it in his eyes.

“Apologies, Ludinus,” Ikithon said, swiftly heading towards his seat. “I was preoccupied with preparing my pupil.”

He waved his hand in Caleb’s direction, who was stepping into place behind Ikithon’s chair. Caleb kept his gaze locked ahead, despite how much his mind itched to take in the rest of the Assembly, to break down their presentations, the looks they projected onto their faces to match what they wished to present. He knew it all to be false, that they were covering their internal thoughts - like every damn member of such a great organization - but he was still intensely curious nonetheless.

“Yes, I am very much aware of our new prodigy,” Ludinus responded, eyeing Caleb. “I do not believe you have properly introduced him to the Assembly, Ikithon.”

Caleb’s master nodded, and looked towards him.

“Go on,” he ordered. Caleb’s response was immediate.

“Caleb Widogast, sir,” he said, using the name Ikithon and himself had settled on for public interaction. In a small recess of his mind, he quietly rejoiced that he got to keep his own name, despite the disgusting nature of its usage.

“I see.” Ludinus barely blinked as he returned his eyes to Ikithon. “I trust he will not be a problem today. We have important business.”

Caleb already knew his shoulders were squared, but he threw them back anyway. He needed to impress here. Otherwise the whole con would be pointless.

“Please,” Ikithon said, leaning forward. “Continue.”

Ludinus cleared his throat, and Caleb chanced the moment to turn his head to look at the rest of the Assembly.

“We have reached a particular crossroads with King Dwendal,” Ludinus explained. “The king has become... _ suspicious _ is a strong word - ”

A human with salt and pepper hair scoffed loudly, but was quickly silenced by a glare from Ludinus.

“ - and some action is needed.”

“Are you suggesting we truly follow through with the king’s ludicrous ideas of  _ peace _ ?” a man with golden-toned skin demanded.

“Peace, Headmaster? No. The Kryns must remain where they are - at arm’s length. However.”

Ludinus turned to Ikithon.

“I have a proposal for you. And your new student may be able to help.”

All eyes turned to Caleb again, and he immediately went back to staring straight ahead. Ikithon took a deep breath.

“What do you have in mind, Ludinus?”

“We need someone to keep an eye on Thelyss. The drow is a...loose end.”

“I was under the impression that Herr Thelyss was under control.” Ikithon sounded far more concerned than Caleb had heard him be in a while. “Besides, DeRogna has informed me that she has passed on his requested information. He should not be a concern.”

“Which is why I believe your pupil would be most excellent for this mission.”

Caleb’s curiosity was bursting, but he waited patiently for Ikithon to summon him into the conversation.

“Caleb,” Ikithon snapped. “Why don’t you listen to Martinet Da’leth?”

Caleb nodded, and turned his attention fully to the white-haired elf, who stood, leveling his gaze with the wizard’s.

“Mage Widogast,” Ludinus explained. “Essek Thelyss is the Shadowhand to the Bright Queen. He has risked his own safety to bring us a prized artifact for our study, and in exchange we are providing him information. We need you to get closer to him and observe him. Ensure he does not do anything...untoward.”

“How do you wish for me to do this?” Caleb asked carefully.

Ludinus smiled coldly.

“We have our own ideas.”

He resumed his seat and flicked his hand. Images appeared on the table in front of them, floorplans and registries and censuses. Caleb read the gesture and shrunk back behind Ikithon as Ludinus walked the Assembly through his thought processes.

“The King wishes to explore peace - good. We can use this to our own devices. We will organize a gala - a false-attempt at peace talks and a way to introduce Mage Widogast into Thelyss’ folds. He will plant himself firmly as our mole, and we can control Thelyss from the inside. Ensure he does not disrupt our...priorities. And in doing so, we may attempt to glean more from the Dynasty's magicians than we previously knew.”

Caleb was suddenly thankful for his internalized fear of Ikithon and his wrath, for it was all that kept him from betraying his panic that the Assembly had plans beyond what he had known. Plans involving an esteemed member of the Dynasty’s ranks, plans involving an artifact that sounded as if it could provide more power to the Assembly than they had had before.

This was new. This was new, and it was what he had come here for. To learn more, and to bring it all crashing down.

That started with this.

“Martinet,” the salt and pepper haired man spoke up. “You must understand that this  _ war _ is a strain on our own - ”

“This  _ war _ is keeping the Empire  _ safe _ and its people  _ loyal _ , Athesius,” the man called Headmaster snapped back. “What better way to ensure the production of new mages than a threat of war?”

Athesius sighed in a huff, but fell silent.

“Besides,” the Headmaster continued. “Thelyss knew what he was doing when he gave us the Beacon. The more we can keep tabs on him, the better.”

“Then it’s settled.” Ludinus looked up at Caleb. “I will deliver the details later. You may go, Mage Widogast.”

Caleb understood a dismissal when he heard one, and he was already at the door by the time Ikithon had stood from his chair. Caleb ducked out into the hallway and took the half second of solitude to heave a large hefty breath.

Ikithon was there soon after, slipping out of the room into the hall.

“Bren,” he said in a low voice. “Contrary to how the Martinet makes it sound, this will be a difficult mission.”

“If you’ll allow me, Master,” Caleb said, wary of Ikithon’s current mood, which seemed more impressed that he was speaking up than angry. “I believe this can be a way of proving myself.”

Ikithon considered him.

“You have already proven yourself to me, Bren.” Caleb didn’t have a chance to register his master’s praise before he followed the words with: “Do not fail me a second time.”

Caleb looked at the ground, fear freezing him to the spot. He had folded his arms behind him without realizing it.

“Yes, Master Ikithon,” he breathed, not daring to even move.

The door slammed shut behind Ikithon without a further word.

With no one looking, Caleb sank against the wall behind him, hugging himself tightly. This wasn’t the first time since he had returned that Ikithon had threatened him. And it would certainly not be the last. Yet each instance made his stomach churn and his head feel faint.

He gripped his shaking hands, fighting the urge to itch at his scars, and hurried himself to a bathroom.

He locked himself inside and took out a piece of copper wire with unsteady fingers. It was tucked into the far corners of his coat, for fear of being discovered, despite Ikithon’s reasonable assumption that it was to contact him. Caleb focused on Nott, on her tiny body and big yellow eyes, and began to speak.

“ _ Nott _ .” Her name alone made him sigh in relief. “I have been sent to Xhorhas. There will be a gala. I am to befriend and watch Essek Thelyss, the Shadowhand. He gifted an artifact called the Beacon to the Assembly for research.” He paused. Was that really all he had learned? It seemed so small for a meeting so monumental. He clutched the wire tighter and brought it directly to his lips.

“I am scared,  _ mein freund _ ,” he whispered. “You can reply to this message.”

It took a full minute for his friend to respond, of which he spent holding his breath. Was she out of range? She had promised to stay within the vicinity of the campus, just for this moment.

_ Caleb! _

His heart leapt into his throat in joy.

_ Beau thinks she knows something about Beacons - she’s gonna check it out. Don’t know much about this Essek fellow, but Yasha says she might know what the Shadowhand does. Jester will message you later with more. _

There was silence for two seconds, and Caleb feared Nott had ended her reply. Then:

_ I’m scared too. We’re here, we’re always here. You can leave whenever you want to, but until then...stay safe. _

Caleb smiled, and pushed a tear away from his cheek.

Alright. He’d attend this gala. He’d meet this Essek Thelyss. But not for the sake of the Assembly. If this Shadowhand was in the sightlines of the Assembly, then that made him either a terrific ally, or a terrible foe.

Caleb certainly hoped it was the former.


	4. Can't Go Back

Waiting was a tedious thing for Essek, at least without a sort of focus. When he was alone, he would pass the time by studying, or taking care of the Bright Queen’s affairs. In court, he had the words of the people to keep him occupied. But for every interesting moment in his Queen’s halls, there were long periods of dull silence, in which Essek had to deal with the boring nature of bureaucracy. It left his mind to wander.

He didn’t appreciate it when it did that. There were too many runaway thoughts, filled with fear and doubt. Most of which he locked up in that house, but the occasional fleeting idea came running out.

This gala wasn’t helping things. This concept of presenting himself to this new mage, as if he didn’t suspect him strongly of foul play right from the front gate. The fear that he’d see right through Essek, be able to - 

“Shadowhand?”

The Bright Queen’s voice cut through his racing mind, and he stuttered slightly on his response.

“Y - yes, my queen?”

“Would you please convince Lord Ferris that the location of the gala is the best option for both parties involved?”

Lord Ferris was sitting on the other side of the planning table, looking somewhat irritated.

“O - of course,” Essek responded, leaning forward.

And so it went, for hours. The monotony of preparations and planning and catering and entertainment and - 

He tuned out all but the essentials, leaving his thoughts to wander back to their ouroboric circle. Much later than he would have liked, the Queen finally spoke up.

“I believe we have everything we need, Shadowhand,” she said. “The gala will be three nights from now. Take your time to prepare.”

“Yes, my queen,” Essek answered with a bow. “Is there any specific preparation you wish of me?”

The Bright Queen stopped to consider this.

“Brush up on your flashiest spells. The more we impress this new mage, the better.”

A small smile curled onto Essek’s lips. Now  _ this _ was something he could do.

“I understand.”

The Queen dismissed him with a wave, and he floated his way out of the chamber.

He returned to his estate eager to distract himself with his studies. He perused his library, fingers sliding over the spines until he selected a particularly interesting tome and brought it with him to his tower. He gently alighted to the floor, kneeling as he drew along the pre-carved lines, and set up the ritual. He focused, murmured words, experimented with different objects in the room, and the next thing he knew three hours had gone by.

He smirked as he got to his feet and dusted off his hands. Now  _ this _ was how to spend time. He gave one final tug on the immovable book that hung suspended in the air. It wasn’t much - the spell worked better as a parlor trick than as a method of action in battle, but he was sure this Caleb Widogast wouldn’t care about the difference. Assembly members were all the same. They strove for power, and would hoard whatever knowledge they could to get it.

Essek would certainly know. The Martinet was never a subtle man.

He caught himself feeling tired, and he lifted himself off the ground in reflex. He should retire. The gala was close, and he needed to be prepared.

He cleaned the tower, extinguished the candles, and headed back downstairs.

**********

Ikithon was not present for the days following the meeting. The Assembly was busy planning the gala, and though Caleb was the centerpiece, he was certainly not invited to the actual strategizing. This left Caleb to pace in his chambers - simple rooms, with necessities provided and the softest linens Caleb had ever felt, but still alien and foreign each time he retreated there. They weren’t home. They weren’t a tiny inn room, shared with Fjord, or a dome in the middle of the wilderness, Caduceus prepping meals far more delicious than Caleb had ever had here. And though they were leagues better in terms of comfort, they especially weren’t anything like sleeping in an alley, unsuccessfully trying to shield himself against the rain, the warm comfort of Nott’s body curled up under his arm.

He missed her. He missed them  _ all _ . It had been too long,  _ too long _ . He wondered what they were doing, whenever he was busy training under Ikithon’s thumb. How they occupied themselves when he studied his heart out for fear of angering his master if he failed. And he pondered where they were, those nights after long and grueling hours spent trying to impress Ikithon, afraid of retaliation if his spell should crumble, if he did not fulfill the archmage’s demands. Ikithon had accepted the ruse. Partook in the deception. But his wrath, his cruel practices - they had not disappeared since Caleb had first run away. They had simply bided their time.

He was grateful, then, for the opportunity to catch his breath in these scant few days when his master was notably absent. He spent the time locked away in his rooms, studying what he could, trying to stay on top of things while inside he fretted and worried after Nott and his friends, waiting and waiting to hear Jester’s promised message.

It was three days later - the departure for the gala was the next morning - when Caleb, pacing endlessly in his room, too distracted to even think about picking up a book, finally  _ finally _ heard Jester’s blessed voice.

_ Caleb! _ She was bursting with energy from the very beginning, and it filled him with hope.  _ Beau thinks the Beacon is a sort of weapon or something. Not much on Essek - sounds spooky. Where’s the gala? We’ll follow you and -  _

Her voice was cut off, so suddenly Caleb almost wasted his precious response by crying out her name. Instead he took a deep breath.

“The gala is in Bladegarden. Best neutral ground they could muster.  _ Danke _ for the information. I…” He tried to compose himself. Tried to make sure she wouldn’t worry. “I’ll be fine. When I return, keep Nott close.”

He felt the last of the allotted words leave his lips and sank down into a chair, wrapping his hands tightly around the back of his neck as he bent double. He forced his breathing to stay steady.

He would leave in the morning. And if he had his way, he would gain knowledge and a possible ally.

Or Ikithon could finally see through the act.

“ _ Scheisse,” _ he breathed.


	5. Dinner & Diatribes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> see if you can cotton on to the theme i'm going with re: my chapter titles.  
> also - the boys finally meet! plot stuff finally happens! i finally get to write the romance i was waiting for!

The trip to Bladegarden was uneventful and quiet, which Caleb appreciated. He spent his time staring out the window of the carriage as the Empire rolled by. They stopped only once, where Caleb obediently set up the dome for shelter, but with the heavily armed guards and Ikithon’s own prowess, he didn’t even blink as he settled in for sleep.

They arrived at the small city in the morning, the walls rising up to meet them. An orc guard let them in after they showed the right paperwork, and Caleb got his first glimpse at the city from the inside.

It looked very much like an extensive military base, with fortresses and barracks lining the main street. In the distance he could see the more residential and marketing district, but it looked tiny compared to even the local towns. It was definitely not the first place he’d pick to hold a gala for  _ peace _ negotiations. The amount of armed soldiers all around them was astounding, but Ikithon ignored them all as the carriage pulled up alongside what looked to be the main citadel.

They walked inside, Caleb trailing Ikithon, and the heavy iron doors parted to reveal a large entry hall. The ceiling rose to meet a second story balcony that wrapped all the way around, the architecture very bland but sturdy. Already, servants who would obviously not have been here were it not for the gala were arranging decorations. A small stage was being assembled in the corner, ready for performers. Caleb could see entryways to other rooms beyond this, but Ikithon led him swiftly upstairs. The higher level was simple and ordinary, no twists and turns to get lost in, which Caleb feel somewhat nervous, that he couldn’t easily escape notice if he needed to. Ikithon wrenched open a door at the end of the hall and moved inside. A cramped two bedroom suite, more suitable to guardsmen than dignified archmages, awaited them. Ikithon huffed indignantly before turning towards Caleb.

“Get dressed,” he snapped, gesturing vaguely towards the other room. “The gala begins at sundown. I expect you there on the hour. I have other matters to attend to.”

“Yes, Master Ikithon,” Caleb said, bowing and retreating quickly to his room. He closed the door behind him but kept his ear pressed to it, waiting for his master to leave. He heard the sound of footsteps, then the suite door slamming shut. He let out a deep breath and sunk heavily against the wood.

His belongings, including his outfit for tonight, were all stored securely in a bag of holding by his side. He rifled through it, drawing out the suit and extra study material he thought reasonable to bring. He sighed as he laid it out on the small bed, then turned towards the window. Outside, the sun was still high in the sky, but he could see a few other carriages trickling in from the front gates. This would be a large gala, and Caleb had a job to do.

He just had to communicate with Essek Thelyss.

********

Essek gingerly floated out of the teleportation circle, following Lord Ferris as he guided him out into Bladegarden’s barracks. He blinked in the sudden rays of the setting sun as he raised his parasol and followed the man down the street.

The Assembly had sent a few of its guards to greet them at the entrance - a gesture which Essek distinctly did not read as one of generosity but of trepidation - being careful that their new Kryn visitors behaved themselves.

The Bright Queen was not in attendance, nor had she even been invited, not that she would have gone if she had. Instead, she entrusted Essek, alongside a few other higher court members (including Lord Ferris, as an ambassador of sorts), with her affairs. He just didn’t understand why this particular mission was giving him such anxiety.

Far too soon they arrived at the main citadel. An usher awaited their entrance as the last of the sun’s beams sank beneath the horizon, and the doors swung open.

The entrance hall was decorated tastefully for the occasion. No garish ornamentation to be found, only simple banners of gold and pale yellow to signify the tentative truce the gala was based around. There was a string quartet idly playing soft music on a stage in the corner, and Essek could see he was not the first to arrive. Many guests had already trickled in, and more were arriving behind him. He moved forward swiftly and followed his companions into the hall.

There was a small buffet table towards the back of the room, with promise of a larger banquet hall beyond. Waiters passed through the guests and served drinks, and Essek gladly snatched a glass of wine to calm his nerves. He sipped it as gracefully as he could as Lord Ferris sidled up next to him.

“I don’t see Mage Widogast yet,” he said quietly. “But I’m sure he’s aware of your presence. Keep to yourself while I chat up the busy-bodies.”

Essek smirked.

“Gladly.”

He let Lord Ferris melt into the crowd while Essek stayed alert. He watched the faces around him, eager to read who he was in company with. He caught sight of several prominent members of courts, both Empire and Dynasty. Across the way he could see a few mages in their elegant robes chatting amongst themselves. He noticed a particularly older mage - a human well past his prime, with jaundiced yellowing skin, and he realized with a small start that it was Archmage Ikithon. The man possessed the eyes of someone half his age -  _ sharp.  _ Essek would have to be careful how he acted around him. He looked around for Ludinus, hoping he would not be here too, to throw a further wrench into Essek’s plan. He hadn’t counted on Ikithon’s presence, he hadn’t counted on  _ many _ things, he’d been far too focused, too obsessed over the key to the house and the basement and the - 

His thoughts stopped short as his eyes fell on a man walking towards him. His hair was like fire, red streaking down his head before it settled at the nape of his pale neck. He wore a suit of purple and gold, the embroidery along the hems perfect in a way to be unreal and obviously magically crafted, and he wore a small frilly cravat that was far too stuffy for this man’s elegant features, the baby blue color matching his - 

_ Oh. _

“Herr Thelyss?”

The man had extended a hand and was expecting Essek to take it, but all he could do was stare at his beautiful, regal, and yet somehow  _ haunted _ blue eyes. He noticed the accent to his words only after he spoke a second time.

“You are Herr Essek Thelyss, correct?”

Essek forced himself to snap out of whatever had come over him as he politely took the man’s hand.

“Yes,” he answered, keeping his voice steady. “And you are?”

“Mage Caleb Widogast,” the man said, bowing slightly. “I am here on behalf of the Cerberus Assembly. I was told I should make your acquaintance.”

Now that this man was closer, Essek was starting to take in more details. His skin was almost ghostly white, with freckles that danced in and out of the candlelight. His hair, though neatly combed, seemed like it spent most of its life messy and rumpled. He had a beard, though it was a very faint one, more shadow than hair, but it suited him masterfully. And his hands...they felt calloused and rough, more so than a usual mage’s should. There were small marks on his knuckles, as if he had been in fistfights, a concept which Essek immediately found ridiculous, but it still intrigued him.

“I’m honored,” Essek found himself saying. “You are new to the Assembly, are you not?”

He figured it was best to lay out any tricks first, before even bothering with progressing. The man’s coy smile at the question was certainly  _ not _ helping matters. He did not appreciate the fact that his mind was being addled by something so simple as aesthetic appreciation, and he shook himself back into the present.

“ _ Ja _ ,” Caleb -  _ Mage Widogast _ \- responded. “I was...inducted six months ago.”

Immediately Essek felt his defense go up, his infatuation gone. Why was he acting so foolish? This man could be the pry bar that breaks down the door to the house, and Essek was finding his eyes nice to  _ look at _ ?

_ Focus, Thelyss, focus. _

“And...before?” he pried. “Surely someone talented enough to become an Assembly member so quickly must have been trained from an early age.”

_ Something _ \- some emotion so quick and miniscule that Essek almost didn’t notice - flashed across Widogast’s face, before promptly being replaced with a close-to-obviously-fake smile.

“I have been under the tutelage of Archmage Ikithon for quite some time now.”

He gestured over his shoulder to the mage behind him, who Essek could swear was watching them from afar.

“Funny,” Essek said, gripping Widogast’s hand a little tighter. “He never seemed to mention you when we have spoken in the past.”

“I wouldn’t expect him to,” the man replied, without missing a beat. “A man like him does not disclose the inner workings of his students so readily.”

“And what of your tutelage?” Essek asked, genuinely curious. “For you to be welcomed into the folds of the Assembly, you must be extraordinarily talented.”

Widogast removed his hand and smiled again, this time more warmly.

“Must we exchange such talents so quickly? I’ve barely met you, Herr Thelyss.”

And yet, Essek could sense his eagerness to show off. He felt it too, his own tricks at his fingertips, just waiting to be unleashed.

“Very well. Then how about you tell me your thoughts on the function of this gala?”

“Ah. Of course.”

He summoned his own glass of wine from a passing waiter and settled in next to Essek.

“I believe peace can be achieved,” Widogast offered. “But not if we do not strive for it.”

“So is that what you and the Assembly are doing here?” Essek quipped back. He found it surprisingly easy to speak to Widogast, and was planning on taking full advantage of it.

“In a way. They are hoping to establish a rapport with someone close to the Bright Queen.”

“Really?”

Widogast smiled again, and it really was a distracting sight. He deposited his glass on the table behind him and gestured to the dance floor.

“May I have this dance, Herr Thelyss?”

Essek gulped and straightened up.

“Of course, Mage Widogast.”

He took Widogast’s hand, and let himself be led out into the crowd.

********

_ What are you doing? _

It was the only thought in Caleb’s head as he led Essek out onto the floor.

_ What are you doing? You think you can deceive him with a pretty smile? You think he’ll become your friend just because he...because he… _

He couldn’t deny the obvious - Essek was far more handsome a drow than he had any right to be. With his sleek white hair and deep purple skin, his outfit of heavy robes and an ornate mantle, and the way he seemed to be  _ floating _ ?

_ Focus, dummkopf,  _ _ focus _ _. _

He needed a way into Essek’s folds. Some excuse that would allow them to meet again outside of one silly gala.

The orchestra began a new waltz, and Caleb positioned himself at the edge of the floor. He looked down, confused as to how he would dance with a floating drow, but Essek smiled up at him and gently lowered his feet firmly to the ground.

"Your move," he said coyly.

Caleb took Essek's hand in his, put his other delicately on the drow's waist, and pulled them into a waltz.

It had been a while since Caleb had properly danced with someone, and with a burst of melancholy he realized the last time he had  _ waltzed _ with anyone was with Jester. He forced the hazy drunken memory of her face out of his head in favor of focusing on his new partner. Essek was an excellent dancer, able to keep up with Caleb’s steps and easily correcting himself the occasional time Caleb stumbled from lack of practice.

“You do not dance much, do you Mage Widogast?” Essek asked after the fourth time Caleb missed the third beat. The drow’s hand gripped his shoulder tightly, guiding Caleb back into formation. He did not look annoyed, more curious.

“I do not have many occasions to do so,” Caleb answered apologetically. “I hope our potential peace arrangements will not be disrupted by my poor dancing.”

“I should think there would be other matters that could put me off first.” Essek let another three beats go by before speaking again. “You mentioned you wished to arrange things with me?”

Caleb held back the flash of surprise within him. Essek was smarter than he let on.

“What gave me away?” Caleb said, hiding his shock with a smile.

“The Assembly does not approach random nobodies with the intention you display. You need me because of my closeness to the Bright Queen.”

“I - ”

“Please, Mage Widogast. If we are to establish a... _ rapport _ , I should hope you be honest with me.”

Caleb almost wanted to laugh.  _ Honest _ ? This Essek Thelyss was the target of the Assembly, someone whom Caleb was tasked with guarding, and yet beneath that Caleb needed him for other tasks, and he wanted  _ honesty? _

He let the music take their movements for almost a full minute as the strings washed over them, and Caleb took note of how softly curved Essek’s waist was, how piercing his eyes were. They were full of intellect, those eyes, he could tell, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to learn what they knew.

“You are correct,” Caleb finally said. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh?” The word was short yet incredibly poised, to the point at which Caleb faltered a step. Essek firmly pulled him back into line without breaking his smile, and Caleb had to physically force himself to recover his voice.

“You seem like a man of extensive knowledge.”

“I’m flattered.” Was it just him, or did Essek seem to be enjoying stringing Caleb along?

_ Schiesse, _ he needed to focus. He took a deep breath.

“The Assembly is always looking for new information. More talent, more knowledge, more resources for their magical skill. They tell me you know of things that could be invaluable to us.”

It was Essek’s turn to stumble, which surprised Caleb into stopping his waltz at the edge of the dance floor. The two stared at each other, and for a split second Caleb could have sworn he saw a sliver of  _ fear _ run across Essek’s face, but it was gone just as quickly, to be replaced with a small smile.

“I am pleased that the Assembly thinks so highly of me. But what would I receive in return?”

At this, Caleb carefully guided Essek off the floor and further into the crowd. They paused as they reached a corner of the hall away from prying eyes. Caleb extended his hand and snapped his fingers. A small sourceless flame came to life in his palm.

“I have my own tricks, Herr Thelyss,” he explained. “The Assembly wishes for us to exchange our knowledge. Enlighten each other, and by extension our own nations.”

Essek’s eyes were wide as he stared down at the fire, and Caleb prayed that his ruse was enough.

“I see.” He looked back up at Caleb, and now that his thoughts were not distracted by dancing, Caleb could not deny the invisible spark of curiosity in Essek’s eyes. He could tell this man was talented, could tell he could learn so much, even if it was all for the sake of a falsehood. But what better way to get close to a potential ally than to play him into his own cover’s storyline?

“I will accept on one condition, Mage Widogast.”

“Yes?”

“That your master stay far away from our confluences.”

He directed his gaze over Caleb’s shoulder, and he glanced back. Ikithon was on the opposite side of the hall, and though he was too far away to properly see anything, the archmage still seemed to be watching with eyes like a hawk.

“Master Ikithon is one of the proprietors of this arrangement,” Caleb explained, suspicious of why Essek would wish for Ikithon to distance himself.

“I understand that.”

“Then why - ?”

“Privacy, for one, security for another, but frankly? I just don’t trust him.”

A very reasonable explanation, yet something about it still bothered Caleb. He opted to put it aside for now as he extended his hand again.

“Then we have a deal?”

Essek hesitated.

“What would you wish to study?” he asked almost casually.

Caleb panicked, as all he wanted to say was  _ The Beacon _ . He needed information on what the Assembly was planning, on what, exactly, Essek had sold to them, and how he could stop the influx of more of it before it made them too powerful. But Essek couldn’t see through his disguise. If he truly did think he was partnering with the Assembly, he had to believe Caleb was with them too. And, of course, if Essek had no ulterior motives, then he would sell Caleb out to the Assembly in a heartbeat. He had to tread carefully, regardless of where he was going, or Ikithon’s wrath would be the least of Caleb’s worries.

With the way Essek’s soft jaw and sharp eyes made Caleb’s stomach twist, that could be a problem.

“What do you have to offer me?” Caleb responded swiftly, attempting to keep his answer vague. Essek raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead, he twirled two fingers, and Caleb watched the wine glasses on the tray nearby raise in the air, rotate once, then crumple in on themselves. The glass didn’t break so much as it folded like crushed paper, and the wine inside seemed to vanish. Essek looked back to Caleb.

“Many things, Mage Widogast.” He reached forward and grasped Caleb’s hand. “I look forward to studying with you.”

Caleb was still somewhat dumbstruck by the display, but shook Essek’s hand nonetheless. He realized, then and there, that Essek Thelyss was more than just the Shadowhand. He was talented, he was erudite, and above all other things, he was immensely and effortlessly beautiful.

Caleb withdrew his hand a little too quickly for either party’s liking. Essek bowed to him, then motioned behind Caleb.

“I suppose you should go tell your master that you have succeeded in your goal,” he said with a smirk. Caleb swallowed the redness before it crept onto his cheeks, then bowed back.

“I thank you, Herr Thelyss.”

He turned towards Ikithon, but Essek’s hand alighted on his shoulder.

“When will I see you again, Mage Widogast?”

Caleb turned back and smiled warmly.

“Expect a correspondence soon enough. We can find our own way forward.”

He almost retreated, but something outlandish and foolish deep within his chest reared its head.

“And please. Call me Caleb.”

He about faced before he could say anything more, but there was a soft, almost happy look on Essek’s face.

Caleb approached Ikithon a few moments later, but they felt like a lifetime.

“Well?” Ikithon demanded.

“I established an arrangement with Thelyss, master. He believes we are to exchange information via studying.”

Ikithon’s face didn’t change.

“Very well. Be sure to prepare yourself for any tricks. The drow can get skittish when put under pressure.”

“Yes, master.”

“Now go upstairs. Don’t let this insipid gala waste any more of your time.”

Caleb was glad to get away from the noise of it all, so he bowed to Ikithon and rushed up the stairs to his suite. He closed the bedroom door, sank to the ground, and only now did he have a chance to fully process the evening’s events. The dancing, the music, the nervous conversation. The way Essek manipulated the wine glass like a child pulling apart paper. His hair neatly swept to the side, the curve of his hip in his hand, his piercing eyes as they looked deeply into his own…

“Oh.” Caleb sighed in frustration. “Oh, this is  _ unfortunate _ .”

*******

Essek watched Caleb melt back into the crowd, and the moment he disappeared he felt lost.

_ Snap out of it, Thelyss. _

But he couldn’t. It was in the way Widogast -  _ Caleb _ \- spoke, the way he moved. Every warning bell should have been going off in Essek’s head. The fact that he was sent specifically to look for  _ him _ . The presence of Ikithon, the idea of a  _ study _ session being the way of achieving peace? He would almost chalk it up to be an elaborate ruse, but was it a ruse though? Widogast -  _ Caleb,  _ Caleb, he had told him his  _ name _ , he had confided in him - had seemed so passionate about his own skills, seemed so set on learning all he could from Essek. And he wasn’t completely innocent either - Essek remembered the spell on the glasses, something so small looking but surprisingly difficult, and he wondered  _ why? _ Why did he feel the need to show off such a high level spell? Why was he so nervous every time Wido -  _ Caleb _ swept his beautiful blue eyes over himself?

_ You need to be diligent. You need to keep an eye on him, he was sent here by the Assembly, don’t you think -  _

But he couldn’t think, not coherently, when all he could focus on was that fiery red hair as it fell down his - 

“Having fun?”

Lord Ferris had appeared behind him, interrupting Essek’s thoughts. He jumped, jostling the wine that he had snagged in an effort to maintain his sanity. Ferris laughed.

“Where’d the mage go?” he asked. “You did speak to him, right?”

“Yes, yes, I did,” Essek answered, trying to recover.

“What did he have to say?”

“He, um.” Essek heaved a deep breath and turned to meet Ferris fully. The image of the rather portly middle-aged man drew his mind back into the present. “He wishes to arrange a series of meetings. An exchange of information in the hopes of brokering a better sense of peace.”

Ferris lifted an eyebrow.

“That’s a word for ‘spying’ I’ve never heard before.”

Essek blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“Be careful, Thelyss. You may be blinded by promises of knowledge - I’ve seen it before. Ensure the Assembly does not take advantage of that.”

Essek let out a breath.

“I appreciate the advice, Lord Ferris.”

Ferris nodded, then gestured towards the buffet table behind them.

“Please, let us enjoy the supply while it lasts, hmm?”

Essek laughed, but his heart was not in the action. All he could focus on was Caleb’s blue eyes as they stared further into Essek than he’d ever shared before.

_ Ah. _ he thought.  _ This might be a problem. _


	6. Achilles Come Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took the better part of the evening for me, and i am quite pleased with how it turned out.

_ Caleb! _

A voice echoed sharply in Caleb’s head, jolting him awake. He hadn’t even realized he had dozed off - the return from Bladegarden was late, and had left him exhausted.

_ Caleb, are you there? I’ve tried a few times and can’t get a hold of you! Youcanreplytothismessage. _

Nott. It was Nott, whispering in his ear, which meant she was nearby, which meant he could communicate with her again. It was so nice to hear her voice, especially after the past few days that had been filled with nothing but Ikithon’s demanding tone.

Well. Him and Essek. And Essek’s voice was smoother, and more…

He shook himself vigorously, trying to focus. He concentrated on Nott’s voice and began to speak.

“Nott. I am here. I have arranged meetings with Essek. I can keep an eye on him for both the Assembly and myself. Have you learned anything more of the Beacon?”

He waited patiently, fingernails digging into the side of his bed.

_ Beau found something. It’s more than a weapon - they worship it. Something called ‘dunamis’? Not sure what else it can do. Best bet might be to talk to this Essek. What’s he like? Youcanreplytothismessage. _

Caleb sighed, and considered how best to word his... _ impression _ of Essek.

“He seems powerful. Like he doesn’t realize how much of a target he is. I think I can take advantage of that.”

He paused, realizing how closely his words resembled those of the Assembly. He shuddered.

“I want to befriend him,” he continued honestly. “I think he can be a good ally.”

While he waited for Nott’s ensuing message, he took stock of his surroundings. It was well past midnight at this point, and he was still in his more formal clothes. He shucked off his stuffy shirt and tried to breathe the best he could while trapped in an Assembly supplied bedroom. The walls had never seemed so imposing.

_ Be careful _ Nott’s voice eventually chimed in.  _ Essek might try and outsmart you. And I know you’re smart enough but, y’know. I still worry. _

Her voice was forlorn, and Caleb remembered just how long it had been since he last saw her smiling face. She seemed to be looking for something to say.

_ You can reply to this message _ she settled for. It was enough.

“ _ Danke _ . I will watch my back. You stay hidden, and stay safe,  _ ja _ ?”

He didn’t need to hear her again to know she understood. He collapsed back onto his bed, knowing he should sleep but finding he couldn’t. He elected instead to stare at the ceiling and forcibly redirect his thoughts  _ away _ from Essek’s face.

_ Good ally _ Caleb thought with an internal scoff.  _ That’s a word for it. _

Dawn came too slowly, but he rose and rubbed at his eyes. A quick glance in the mirror revealed a haggard and tired face, and he winced. If he was to face anyone today, he had to at least look presentable. He combed his hair and utilized a quick cantrip to wipe himself clean of any grime that one could acquire from staying up late, before outfitting himself with Assembly-styled robes. He hated wearing them, hated associating himself with them any more than he absolutely had to. He wished dearly for his coat and scarf, for  _ Frumpkin _ . The cat hadn’t seen the light of day for months now, Caleb deciding to keep him hidden from Ikithon. He told himself it was for utilitarian purposes - it was better Ikithon not know too much about his own magics - but he knew its true meaning was a selfish one. Frumpkin had been the one to coax him out of the hell he had been in for years, and the cat had stayed as close a friend as Nott. He refused to endanger him, and even though that concept seemed foolish (he was a fey creature, he could always be resummoned), Caleb knew he couldn’t bear Ikithon getting anywhere  _ near _ his companion.

Instead, he smoothed down his robes, gripped his books, and walked out of his chambers.

Ikithon was nowhere to be found, as was usual. The archmage wasn’t always around, a fact Caleb took as a good sign that he trusted Caleb enough with his own devices. He made his way towards the Academy’s library, intending to find someone with a Sending spell, but was beaten to it as a student intercepted him in the hallway.

“Mage Widogast!” they called, running up to him. They looked young, too young, and Caleb forced back memories of when he was that age to instead focus on their words. “Master Ikithon instructed me to pass on a message.”

They straightened up and cleared their throat, eager to impress. A mop of curly brown hair fell messily into their eyes, and Caleb had to smile.

“He says ‘Your party has been notified of a meeting to take place in Xhorhas. The necessary arrangements have been made. Depart from the northern tower as soon as possible.’”

“ _ Danke _ ,  _ jugendliche,” _ Caleb said, nodding his head. The student smiled back and turned to go.

“What is your area of study, if I might ask?” he called out to them. They turned back, beaming.

“Transmutation!” they declared with confidence in their eyes.

“Ah, a noble pursuit,” Caleb replied, feeling affection for this bouncing teenager he did not know. “You must be doing quite well for yourself if Master Ikithon has entrusted you with this message.”

Immediately, without missing a beat, the student said: “Oh yes! He thinks I might be eligible for further study one day!”

Caleb had to force himself to swallow the wave of nausea that rolled over him as the student flashed another smile and walked away. He dug his fingernails into his wrists and grounded himself in the pain for a few moments, as visions of himself in that student’s shoes threatened to consume him.

_ You’re here for children like them _ he reminded himself.  _ You’re here to save them. _

He took a shaky breath. Two. Then raised his eyes to the world around him and headed off towards the northern tower.

*******

Caleb did not wish to question exactly how Ikithon had managed to gain access to a teleportation circle within the Lucid Bastion, but when he arrived in its halls shortly after midday, no one around him seemed visibly surprised. A guard approached him almost immediately, speaking few words beyond explaining that he was expecting Caleb, and that he was to direct him to Essek Thelyss’ estate.

Rosohna was far more beautiful than Caleb had ever imagined, and he took it all in with wonder as he was led through its streets. The sky above was in darkness, despite him knowing that the sun should be shining, and as he stared at it he attempted to question his guard about the magic behind it, to no avail as his companion stayed mute. It was obvious the man didn’t care much for taking care of an outsider, let alone one associated so closely with the enemy, but Caleb was grateful he at least didn’t shirk his duties.

They arrived at a three-tower estate behind a tall wrought-iron gate. Caleb gazed up at it, trying to piece together a floor plan in his head, imagining the wonders he could find inside.

“Wait here,” the guard grumbled. “The Shadowhand will be with you shortly.”

He left without gracing Caleb with a goodbye.

Not much time passed before a door opened at the base of one of the towers, and Essek floated gently to the gate. His eyes widened upon seeing Caleb.

“Your master had informed me you were coming all this way, Mage Widogast, but I am still surprised to see you.”

He opened the gate and beckoned Caleb inside.

“I am a man of my word, Herr Thelyss,” he responded, stepping past the threshold. “I promised you a way of communication, and here we are.”

“Still. I believe you and I are  _ both _ shocked by how quickly our respective governments agreed to host an Assembly member in Rosohna.”

“Can peace not come so quickly?” Caleb asked.

Essek paused.

“I suppose not,” he said quietly. “Please, come in.”

He led Caleb inside to a sparsely furnished yet stately interior, where he gestured upwards.

“Shall we cut to the chase? Or would you prefer a drink first?”

Caleb smiled.

“A drink would be lovely. Allows us to break away some tension.”

“I should hope there was no tension to begin with,” Essek responded with a coy tone that left Caleb’s skin tingling with the sound. “But very well.”

He waved a hand, and the furniture nearby flew into position - two chairs arranged near a small table. Similarly, a wine bottle seemed to fold itself into thin air, along with two glasses, and Essek took a gentle seat. The brief show of power left Caleb momentarily stunned.

“I assume you wouldn’t mind this particular year, would you?” Essek asked, raising the bottle.

“N - no,” Caleb said, sitting down as well.

“So,” Essek began, pouring the wine and offering Caleb a glass. “What do you think of Rosohna? It’s your first time here, yes?”

Caleb took the glass and sipped it, trying to calm his nerves.

“It’s  _ beautiful _ ,” he admitted. “Tell me, the night sky - how is it done?”

“Oh, that?” Essek waved his hand as if it were nothing. “It’s an old magic, been around for centuries.”

“It’s  _ incredible _ .”

“If obscuring the sun is what you consider an outstanding feat, Mage Widogast - ”

“Please, call me Caleb.”

“... _ Caleb _ , then. If that is what shocks you then I believe you are going to find my own knowledge too much.”

“Oh, never!” Caleb said quickly, fearing he had already ruined his chances. “I - I want to know how you did the trick with the glasses, back at the gala.”

Essek sipped his wine slowly.

“In due time,” he answered. “I hope that we may work our way up to such things, hmm?”

Caleb almost laughed at how true to scholarly form Essek was being right now.

“I must say, though,” Essek continued. “Your existence does still make me curious.”

“Oh?”

“You never gave me a direct answer at the gala. How does one such as you make their way into the Assembly so quickly?”

Caleb knew a trick question when he saw one, and he wasn’t about to disclose his whole past. So he settled for a half-truth, which he knew would satisfy enough.

“I began studying when I was very young,” he explained. “Master Ikithon took notice. I studied, I trained. I excelled at what I did.”

“And somehow that made you qualified for the Assembly?”

“ _ Anyone _ is qualified for the Assembly,” Caleb pressed. “Provided they have the nerve and the guts to push themselves.”

“And you did?”

Caleb did not like how this conversation was going.

“ _ Ja,” _ he said shortly. “Come, now, are we going to waste time  _ talking _ about my talents, or can I show them to you instead?”

“Very well.”

Essek rose gracefully, setting down his wine glass before making it disappear altogether with another wave of his hand. He gestured towards the steps leading up the tower.

“After you,” Caleb said, swallowing the last of his wine.

Essek led him up to a frankly  _ gorgeous _ room, full of bookshelves and alchemical equipment, with lines of sigils and runes carved into the base of it.

“I will always love the architecture of a tower,” Caleb sighed as Essek floated further in and opened a book that was sitting on a pedestal nearby. He flipped through it idly as Caleb wandered around the room, observing each detail the best he could.

“If we want to start,” Essek said. “How about you show me some of your own power? We have no restrictions of suits and frivolities here - just simple spellwork.”

Something in the way Essek said the words, like he was finally free from what held him back, sent a shiver down Caleb’s spine. He raised a hand and, clutching the clay cat in his other, summoned Cat’s Ire. The paw hovered there, bobbing up and down, as Essek looked it over.

“Impressive,” he said.

“It has many uses,” Caleb explained. “And is especially useful in situations in which you might otherwise exert yourself too much.”

“I would assume an esteemed Assembly member does not get into situations like that too often, Caleb.”

The use of his name made the cat paw shift involuntarily as Caleb tried to maintain concentration through his brief burst of admiration.

“Maybe,” he managed. “Maybe not. It all depends on which member.”

Essek chuckled.

“Perhaps we can put it to the test.”

He picked up a spare book and held it aloft. He muttered a few incantations and tightened his grip, before letting go. The book remained in place, suspended in the air.

“Go on,” Essek said. “Try and take it.”

Caleb manipulated the cat’s paw into wrapping around the book and tugged, but it did not give. It was stuck in place entirely, no matter which way he pulled.

“That is incredible,” he said as he approached it and tried to pull it with his own hands, to no avail.

“ _ That _ is called dunamancy.”

The word made Caleb’s ears perk up. It was now or never.

“Where does one get such powers?” he asked innocently. “There must be some sort of source that they can be derived from.”

Essek frowned.

“Dunamis is learned through the manipulation of reality around us.”

“ _ Ja _ . That is what it  _ is _ . Not where it comes from.”

Caleb waited, trying not to test his luck too much. Essek considered him for a few seconds, before he did a strange thing. He put a hand to his temple and sighed, leaning against the pedestal.

“There is a source, yes,” he admitted. “At least, it is what some  _ say _ is the source. And, as is with all sorts of religions, such matters are...complicated.”

“Religions?” Caleb pressed.

Essek lifted his head.

“How much do you know about the Luxon?” he asked.

The name escaped Caleb, and he regretted it.

“Pretend I know nothing,” he answered honestly.

Essek nodded. “The Luxon is the great religion of the Dynasty. The deity which created the world and the planes and...well. The Dynasty believes that the Luxon broke apart upon its creation, and scattered the pieces throughout Exandria.”

“Pieces?”

“Beacons.”

Caleb prayed his expression had remained neutral, despite the excitement building in his chest. He had found what he was searching for, and it was freely given to him.

“And these  _ Beacons,” _ he asked slowly. “They are what is believed to give dunamis its power?”

Essek shook his head, almost in defeat.

“The Luxon is a religion that an entire nation believes in.” His hands, which were normally hidden beneath his cloak, were now extended in front of him, his fingers tapping out random patterns against the wood. “Can you imagine that? An entire nation of thousands of people putting blind faith into an  _ interpretation _ of an artifact.”

Caleb cocked his head to one side.

“Is that not a sound belief?” he asked curiously.

“The Beacons are artifacts that should be studied, learned from. Not held up in high regard as pieces of a  _ god _ .”

Caleb could have sworn he heard a tendril of spite and malice creep into Essek’s words, but he didn’t have a chance to register it as he took in this new information. The artifact that Essek had given the Assembly wasn’t just that - it was an object of great power. It had to be, if it had the capability of being worshipped.

“I take it you do not believe in such things?” he said.

Essek let out a soft laugh.

“There is a reason I keep to myself. My opinions are not exactly held in high regard.” He paused and looked over to Caleb and smiled. “You are a nice change of pace, however.”

Caleb seized the moment of interest to chance a question.

“These Beacons, then, they’ve found some? Where are they now?”

The smile dropped immediately from Essek’s face.

“They are in the possession of the Bastion,” he snapped. “Not to be touched.”

Caleb held up a hand apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I meant no offense - ”

“None taken,” Essek said harshly. “I just do not wish an Assembly member such as yourself to come into contact with such a key artifact of the Dynasty. And I say that with the sincerest graciousness.”

Caleb let himself stare at the drow for a few moments. He clearly wanted to cover his tracks, but never more than now did Caleb wish to break through his damned cover. Essek thought Caleb was after him, come to carry out the Assembly’s wishes, whatever they may be. But all Caleb wanted to know was whether Essek was worth offering peace.

Patience. Slow, steady patience.

“I understand your hesitance,” Caleb eventually said. “And I would not wish to put you in an untoward position.”

Essek, who had straightened up, coughed slightly. “Thank you. Now, unless you wish to watch me transcribe spells for the next three hours, I would suggest our time to be up.”

Caleb wanted more, much more, but he had clearly outstayed his welcome. He bowed low and let the drow guide him downstairs towards the door in silence.

They reached the front gate, where the guard from the Bastion was waiting, obviously sent for by Essek previously. Caleb was halfway out of the grounds efore Essek’s hand rested gently on his shoulder.

“I...I apologize,” he said quietly. “I should like to have you over again, and soon. I believe I may have just the thing for you and I to puzzle over.”

Caleb offered a small smile.

“I am grateful, Herr Thelyss.”

“Please,” the drow said, letting out a soft laugh. “Call me Essek.”

He really was rather beautiful, now that he was out in the moonlight. Caleb quashed that thought almost as quickly as it came up, forcing out an entirely different sentence.

“I will consult with Master Ikithon on when we can next - ”

“Too late. We will see each other in three days.”

Caleb forced down a blush at how quickly this man wanted to see him. Instead, he let out a quiet laugh and bowed low.

“ _ Gute nacht _ . Essek.”

He watched over his shoulder as the drow floated back into his estate.

********

It was only eight in the evening when he returned to his chambers in the Assembly. Eight hours? That was all it had taken? It felt like a lifetime.

He scrambled out of his robes into something more comfortable, then sat down on his bed and leaned heavily against the wall. He slipped out a copper wire and pressed it softly to his lips.

“Nott?” he tried, whispering even though he really didn’t need to. “Nott, are you there?”

There was no immediate reply, so he set the wire down and hugged his knees close to himself. He couldn’t expect her to hang around  _ all _ the time. He would have to wait, but he  _ couldn’t _ wait, because in the morning he would have to face Ikithon, and if anything happened he might slip and tell the mage something and then the whole game would be uprooted and he’d never see Essek again and - 

_ Caleb? Caleb I’m here! _

Her voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts, and he grasped for another bit of wire.

“Essek told me about the Beacons. They’re artifacts.  _ Old _ ones. They grant powers of dunamancy - he showed me some of it. He’s tight-lipped, but I’m seeing him again in three days.” He took a breath - he hadn’t realized he’d been holding it. “You can reply to this message.”

_ Good, that’s good! You’ll learn more! Does he seem like he could be a good guy? Did you learn about where the Beacons are? _

Caleb’s fingers were shaking as he wrapped another wire around them.

“He lied to my face. Said that Xhorhas has all of them. Told me he doesn’t want the Assembly messing with them. I can’t get a clear read on him. Will try to next time - he says he has something for me.”

He closed his eyes and let his head thump back onto the headboard.

“He’s interesting, regardless. You can reply to this message.”

Nott’s voice sounded so motherly upon her reply that it made Caleb want to cry, he missed her so much.

_ Learn what you can, Caleb, but be  _ _ careful _ _. He’ll try and use you, or betray you, and I’ll cut out his heart if he does, but it won’t mean anything if you’re hurt. You’re smart, Caleb. You can still win this one. _

Caleb smiled at the ceiling even as worry pooled into his gut. She was right. Of course she was. Essek was dangerous, and a liability, and Caleb just needed to get information and get out. That was it. Essek would surely be willing to stab him in the back and leave him in the dirt in a heartbeat if it meant saving his own hide.

_ Why, then? _ The smallest part of Caleb’s mind echoed out.  _ Why are you so sure that won’t happen? _

He didn’t have an answer to that, other than the image of Essek’s smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update on the updates: been searching for jobs and busy with other stuff, so i'm mostly writing at my own pace. issue is, each of these chapters is super long, so sometimes i'll write half of one and then not finish until the next week lol. anyway, just stay tuned!


	7. Allies or Enemies

_ What are you doing? _

It was the only thought in Essek’s head as he retreated into his estate after watching Caleb go.

_ What are you doing? _

Caleb was asking after the beacons. He was here from the Assembly. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

_ But that’s already happened _ Essek reminded himself, as the door slammed behind him too loudly for his liking.  _ You gave them what they wanted,and they will provide to you. He’s just an upstart mage. _

_ An upstart mage with the power to destroy you with a single report,  _ another side of him argued. He climbed the steps to his tower, his mind teeming.  _ He’s digging where he shouldn’t, you  _ saw  _ that. _

He shoved the door to his study open with enough force to go banging against the stone wall behind it. He winced at the sound, grateful he lived alone. He closed it more gently, latching the lock, and rested his head on the smoothly polished wood.

_ Maybe he’s just curious. _

_ Why would he be? _

_ Because he was interested in dunamancy. Because he wants to learn. _

_ All of the Assembly wants to ‘learn’. _

_ The Assembly is doing good work with the Beacons. _

_ Don’t kid yourself, Thelyss. The Assembly caused a war. _

_ So? There is information to be gained in conflict. _

_ Information that can be readily taken away. You may not have a lot to lose, but the Assembly does, and they will stop at nothing to keep themselves from falling. Even if it means drowning you. _

_ But...but does  _ he _ want to drown me? Or is he just as curious as I am? _

_ What reason do you have to trust him? _

Essek didn’t have an answer to that, beyond the small skip of his heartbeat whenever Caleb smiled. And he knew simple silly infatuation would get him nowhere.

Caleb had been just on point today as he had been at the gala - sharp eyes, quick wit, and a hunger for knowledge, wherever he could get it.

_ Take advantage of that, Thelyss. Two can play at this game. _

He needed a reason to trust Caleb, to show that he truly was what Essek thought he could be - a scholar, pursuing the richest knowledge he could find. Essek tried to convince himself that this - verifying him to cover his own tracks - was the only reason he wanted to ensure Caleb’s trustworthiness. And not, as he refused to admit, because he  _ wanted _ to trust him. Because something in Caleb’s blue eyes made Essek forget where he was, for all that mattered was this wizard.

He turned to face the room. The book he had placed in the air was still fixed into its spot, and he shook his head, chiding himself for getting so distracted. He left it suspended there for a moment as he made his way over to his bookshelf, rifling through any research notes he had. He eventually pulled a rather ratty-looking collection of papers bound with a silver thread and spread them out onto his desk. It was a spell that had yet to be properly unlocked - he had been tinkering with it for weeks before giving up and putting it away. It wasn’t important - more interesting study than anything particularly useful - but it could serve a greater purpose now.

He took a deep breath and pressed his face into his hands. He needed proof he could trust Caleb. So what better way to analyze his motives than hanging a carrot before him and seeing if he’d take the bait?

He winced at the thought, like he was actively trying to manipulate Caleb. Technically, yes, this could count as coercion - but it was also an act of peace. A way of ensuring that Caleb was truly there to learn.

To be a friend.

That final thought brightened Essek slightly, and he smiled quietly to himself.

*******

The ensuing three days felt simultaneously like a lifetime, and like a brief flash of mere seconds, and sooner than Essek would have wanted (and yet a beautiful reward to his patience), he found himself drifting out to the front gates of his estate, where Caleb was waiting. The man was dressed in simpler clothing today - a more comfortable-looking tunic emblazoned with the Cerberus Assembly’s insignia on its breast. His red hair shone in a nearby light, and he smiled warmly as Essek approached.

“Ah,  _ Guten Tag _ , Herr Thelyss,” he announced while Essek pushed open the gates. He smiled in response.

“I believe I offered my name to you before,” he reminded Caleb.

“ _ Essek _ , then.” He waved a hand, gesturing forward. “I trust you have something exciting to show me today?”

Essek nodded with enthusiasm.

“It’s something I’ve been working on for weeks, but haven’t been able to get a hang of yet.”

They entered the estate, and Essek had barely lifted a hand towards his liquor cabinet before Caleb shook his head, instead looking to Essek.

“I am surprised something has stumped you, Essek,” Caleb said with a coy smile. “I would have thought you’d mastered your art.”

Essek tried his best not to look as flattered as he felt.

“Has any wizard truly mastered any skill?” he countered. “And besides, I do not usually dabble in this project’s particular realm of study.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Essek answered by waving a hand towards the staircase.

The climb was punctured by Caleb’s footsteps, a sound not normally found in these halls, and Essek held his breath as they entered his tower room. He proceeded to showcase the papers to Caleb, who immediately lit up like a child in a candy store at the prospect of new discovery.

“What area of magic is it, exactly?” he asked as he rifled through the various pages, examining the sigils drawn hastily in the margins.

“Well, it’s dunamancy for certain,” Essek said, explaining the obvious. “But beyond that, its exact nature escapes me.”

“Tell me, these markings here.” Caleb pointed to something drawn in shimmering purple ink. “They are similar to a divination spell,  _ ja _ ?”

Essek grew closer, staring in partial shock. They did indeed resemble divination magic, something he hadn’t even considered before.

“I...I suppose they are, yes.”

Caleb was already onto another paper.

“And you are sure it is dunamantic?” he asked, somewhat distracted.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Essek replied, grabbing one of the papers he had already deciphered most of. “See this, here. It shows the spell involves the use of an alternate reality. But to what extent or what use, I do not - ”

“This reality, it must involve seeing into it,  _ ja _ ?” Caleb had barely even  _ glanced _ at the finished page in Essek’s hands, instead busying himself with the markings he had previously pointed out. “Do you think this spell has something to do with the manipulation of that reality towards another use?”

Essek latched onto Caleb’s words in a heartbeat. “Maybe a way to bypass a barrier - ”

“ - that was preventing the divination - ” Caleb continued. He was looking Essek in the eyes now.

“ - from full completion.” Essek stared at Caleb in awe. The wizard grinned, then looked around desperately.

“Do you have some ink?”

They fell into a pattern, where Caleb dug into a particular section of Essek’s notes, contributing ideas that Essek hadn’t even considered before, and Essek provided him with an outward perspective from a dunamantic angle. They would pipe back and forth, then fall into rapt silence as they poured over what they had, and what they had collected. The desk in front of them grew thickly covered with more and more paper, as their hasty scribbling turned into a full on collection dedicated to cracking this spell.

Essek had not realized the hours had crept by until he heard the distinct sound of Caleb’s stomach rumbling. He, too, felt a call to hunger, and he lowered his pen.

“Caleb,” he said softly. The wizard was busy copying down another sigil he had found buried in the back of a spare book they had pulled from Essek’s shelves. “Caleb, we should eat.”

“Hmm?” Caleb managed to pry his head away from the paper. “Oh.  _ Ja, ja _ , that’s...that’s a good idea.”

“I promise we will return to this as soon as we are able,” Essek reassured him. “But keeping our bodies fed is probably just as important as this project, no?”

Caleb let out a short laugh, but put down his own pen. He straightened up, brushing some spare chalk off his tunic.

“You are certainly a better caretaker of myself than I have ever been,” he said, walking towards the door. “When I get into these states…”

“It is hard to break away,” Essek agreed with a small nod. “Do not worry, dinner should not take long.”

They made their way down to the kitchens, wherein Essek magicked up a simple meal of chicken and vegetables, the cooking hurried along by a few choice incantations at the stove. He deposited the plates in front of them both as he took a seat at the table. He waved his hand, and a wine bottle unfolded itself into reality nearby. Caleb perked up at the display.

“One of these days, you must show me that trick,” he said as he took a glass of wine from Essek. The drow smiled.

“In due time.”

“I am grateful for what you  _ have _ shown me,” Caleb added. “I have learned more about dunamancy today than I ever have before.”

Essek leaned forward as Caleb began carving into his chicken.

“The Assembly does not teach you such things?” he asked casually, hoping to learn more of Caleb’s true purpose here.

“Ah,” Caleb said with a small sigh. “Unfortunately, this type of power is new for me. And for them, if I am not mistaken.”

“Oh?” Essek probed, swallowing a small sense of relief. If Caleb thought the Assembly did not know anything, then perhaps his questions about the Beacons were just that - questions.

“Master Ikithon has never disclosed this school of magic to my person,” Caleb explained. “And I have never heard them talk about it in my presence.”

Essek peered at the wizard as he took another bite, trying to gauge his honesty. He had said the words in a straightforward manner, with no hesitance. Essek had been around many liars in his many years, and he knew a fib when he heard one. So by all accounts, Caleb was telling the truth. He briefly wondered, then, exactly how  _ much _ of the truth he was giving him.

“And yet you asked after the source of dunamis,” Essek pressed, trying to keep his voice even. He needed to know, right now, whether this beautiful scholar with a mind like no other was worthy of his trust.

Caleb looked up at him, taking a slow sip of wine.

“I understand your hesitance, Essek,” he said calmly. “The Assembly can be...intimidating.”

Essek let out a small laugh, which Caleb echoed.

“Please know that I come into this realm of knowledge with good intentions. At least, as far as I can under the instruction of an entire government.”

Essek considered Caleb as he finished another bite of vegetables. He realized he hadn’t even touched his own plate yet.

“I want to learn more,” Caleb continued. “I want to expand my repertoire, I want to  _ discover _ . Your knowledge, what you have, it is a great gift. And I do not wish to see it  _ wasted _ .”

He gripped his wine glass tightly as he said the last word.

“Especially if it gets into the hands of the wrong people,” Caleb concluded.

Essek stared at him. He knew truth when he saw it, and  _ this _ was it. Nothing Caleb had just said was false, or a half-truth. He was being genuine in every word, and it made Essek feel buoyed significantly.

“Well then,” Essek said, finally picking up his fork. “I sincerely hope I can teach you what you wish to know.”

It was a weak response to a hefty statement, but he could see the small glint of gratitude in Caleb’s eye as he nodded, then turned back to his dinner.

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence, broken only by the occasional question from Caleb about their project. They collectively decided to take the last of the wine with them as they returned upstairs. The tower was how they left it, and Caleb immediately picked up a pen and zeroed in on some paper, citing the need to record his ideas he had gotten during dinner. Essek filed in behind him, smiling, as he removed another book and began paging through it.

It was only a few short minutes before Caleb called Essek over to his own studies, to have him cross-reference, and Essek found himself standing in close proximity to the man. He began noticing things about Caleb he hadn’t before. How his hair, though beautifully combed, still liked to fight against its bindings at the nape of his neck. How the freckles across his nose traveled downwards, past his neck and down onto what little skin he could see above the tunic’s edges. And how his sleeves, which he realized only now were always worn long, despite the relatively warmer temperatures of the year, were tightly tailored to his wrists, as if Caleb feared they would travel too far up his arms. Essek wondered why this was the case, considering the absolute mess of chalk and component dust that gathered on them the more they worked.

As the evening carried on, and they continued their research - the end result getting closer and closer until Essek could swear he could almost touch it - he found himself staring at Caleb more and more, taking in the wizard’s essence.

_ I can trust him _ he told himself with warmth in his heart.  _ I can trust him. _

It was such a new feeling, and a part of him was still scared, frightened that Caleb had ulterior motives. He knew he could never be rid of those thoughts, never be truly himself around an  _ Assembly _ member, but the more time he spent besides this man, as the evening turned slowly into dawn, he realized that he didn’t  _ care _ .

It was well into the morning, both of them exhausted but running on the energy of innovation, when Caleb stopped suddenly, staring at the paper before him.

“I...I think that’s got it,” he said softly, his hands poised midway through the air. “I...unless, you think - ?”

He offered the project to Essek, who stepped forward, examining everything. The research was done, spread out before him, and Caleb was right - the spell was sitting there, ready to be cast. The two of them had achieved what Essek could never in his own devices. He turned to Caleb, wide-eyed.

“You…” He couldn’t quite say what was on his mind, for his thoughts were lost in Caleb’s blue eyes.

“Yes?”

There was a moment, just a fleeting small miniscule part of a second, in which Essek wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss this beautiful man.

Then a pen that had been teetering on the edge of the desk came tumbling down to the ground with a crash so quiet, yet in the moment of silence it sounded like a thunderclap. It brought Essek severely back into his own senses, and he blinked, swallowing  _ whatever _ that was and forcing a smile onto his face.

“You truly are something, Mage Widogast,” he managed.

Caleb smiled, and took a step back that left Essek yearning for him to return.

“I should go,” Caleb whispered. “Master Ikithon will be wanting to know where I am.”

Desperate for an excuse to make him stay, Essek tapped the spell pages.

“Don’t you want to see if it works?”

Caleb hesitated.

“It requires an attunement of sorts, I believe,” he said, arcane jargon bringing them both back into a professional state. “How about we try it out during our next meeting?”

“Should I find another spell for us to crack?” Essek asked.

Caleb paused, thinking.

“I have an idea. Of sorts. It would require some travel. Do you have the ability to contact me directly?”

Essek nodded.

“Good. That can bypass formalities.”

“I’ve always hated those,” Essek slipped out before he could catch himself. Caleb grinned, which turned into a laugh, in which Essek joined in, and suddenly they were both comfortable with each other’s presence. Essek knew he always would be.

“Contact me in a week’s time, at midday,” Caleb said. “And be prepared to meet me somewhere.”

“You have my interest,” Essek replied. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

He guided Caleb down to the gates, and as they walked, he had to physically stop himself from reaching for Caleb’s hand.

“I will see you in a week?” Caleb asked before he left.

“You have my word.”

Essek stayed at the gates until Caleb disappeared around the bend. His fingers curled around the bars tightly.

_ What are you doing? _ He asked himself.  _ What are you doing? _


	8. Stuck in Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally meant this to be the next Essek/Caleb meeting but whoops, it got away from me, so here, have some plot!

Caleb stared at himself in the mirror, the bags under his eyes starker than they’d been in weeks. He gripped the edge of the water basin tightly, his knuckles turning white.

“Nott, I need your help,” he practiced out loud. No, no, that was too straightforward. “Nott, I’m in trouble.” That would make her worry more than she already had.

“Nott, I’m worried about Essek.” Okay, okay, that wasn’t bad. Vague enough.

He sighed and hung his head low, feeling the fight leaving him. What was he doing? He had a mission. He had a  _ goal _ , he couldn’t let himself be distracted by stupid pointless things like a  _ crush _ .

But it didn’t  _ feel _ pointless. It didn’t even feel like a crush. It felt more than that, like something substantial could come from it.

_ Like what? _ He spat to himself.  _ He is the  _ enemy _ here. You need to keep him at arm’s length. _

But the way he studied, the way the two of them had collaborated, the way they had connected in the realm of magic, of knowledge - it was something he’d never experienced before. This man could do such amazing things. He could help Nott, with all of that intellect.

_ No, no, do not bring personal goals into this. You’re here to take down the Assembly. _

And what was Essek, in that scheme? Caleb had told him that he wanted to help. That he wanted to keep him safe. He had said it to manipulate Essek into his good graces. He had said it to unlock further discussion, to push past barriers.

Hadn’t he? Or did he truly mean every word?

Somebody moved past the door to his chambers and he turned sharply, heartbeat skyrocketing, but they were gone just as quickly. It was just as well - Caleb didn’t think he’d be able to face Ikithon’s questioning a second time.

His master had caught him immediately after he teleported back to the northern tower. His outward appearance of calm masked the steady anger beneath it.

“You were due back here twelve hours ago,” Ikithon snapped.

“Apologies, master,” Caleb said, ducking his head and refusing to make eye contact. “We were working on a project together, and time got away from us.”

“And that justifies overstaying your welcome?”

Caleb took a small breath, crafting his words carefully.

“I believe it justifies the amount of trust Herr Thelyss puts in me,” he answered, citing the truth in an effort to appease Ikithon. The archmage paused to consider that.

“And Thelyss does not suspect your true intentions?”

_ In more ways than one _ Caleb thought. Instead, he simply nodded.

“What are your plans for your next encounter with the drow? Surely you’ve observed him enough.”

For this, at least, Caleb was prepared.

“I have yet to see him in the field,” he explained. “To see how truly powerful he can be.” He cleared his throat and risked a question. “If I may, if you allowed me to learn more about his course of study - ”

“I placed you in this position to keep watch, not  _ study _ ,” Ikithon interrupted.

“I understand,” Caleb said, trying his best to outsmart this man. “But I will not be able to observe Herr Thelyss’ level of threat if I am unable to comprehend his source of power.”

At this he raised his eyes, carefully watching Ikithon’s face. It shifted from anger to contemplation to resignation.

“Very well,” he said finally, and the carefully contained frustration was palpable. “I will send a book on the topic to your chambers later today. A  _ single _ book. You are to learn just enough to fulfill your task, and no more. Do you understand me?”

Caleb nodded quickly. A single book was better than nothing, and he could do a lot with one tome. Besides, he could communicate with Nott if need be, and Beau would be able to do research through the Cobalt Soul.

“Now get out of my sight. I will expect your plan as soon as possible, and I will make the necessary arrangements.”

Ikithon left the room in a huff, not bothering to wait for Caleb to follow.

Now, Caleb sank against the basin behind him, contemplating his next move. He was lost in his thoughts when there was a knock at the door. He opened it carefully, and there before him was the same student that he delivered his message the day before.

“Mage Widogast!” they blurted out, bouncing on the spot. “I was supposed to bring this to you.”

They held up an older book, still dusty from its place on the shelf, with small lines of blue ink carved into its simple leather cover.

“Master Ikithon certainly has you running many errands,” Caleb said, taking the book with a smile. “What was your name?”

“Suni, sir,” they responded. “And I figured it would get me on his good side.” Caleb almost laughed - as if Ikithon  _ had _ a good side. “He’s taken a special interest in me lately. I really hope I can break into the higher learning under his teachings.”

Caleb’s stomach churned as he rested his hand on the door, ready to shut it. He felt the sudden need to tell this student everything, spill all his secrets, lay bare everything so that he could save this one innocent face.

_ Then many others would suffer _ he reminded himself.  _ You must hold on for just a little longer. _

“I am sure you will manage it,” Caleb choked out. “ _ Danke _ .”

He closed the door before Suni could respond.

He retreated into his chambers to his desk and opened the book. Sigils, markings, drawings of circles, and scribbled out incantations met his eyes - the book had been well used before he got his hands on it. He sighed, flipped to the first page, and began to read.

Ikithon had been right - this was a  _ very _ limited understanding of dunamis. Clearly his master did not wish to give him too much power. That being said, Caleb could follow the basics. Dunamancy stemmed from the manipulation of reality and time, a concept he himself found fascinating, but the previous owner of this book had obviously found tedious and dull. Their handwriting was short and to the point, dictating the building blocks of dunamancy the same way one would teach a child the alphabet. Caleb found himself frustrated the more and more he read, hitting a wall at each turn he took, until he fell back from his desk, a headache pounding in his temple, and he realized that it was well past sundown.

_ Nott _ .

She’d be resting, far beyond the range of the spell, but he tried anyway.

“Nott, are you there? I need the Nein’s help.”

Silence. He sighed in frustration and closed the book. He found himself hungry.

_ “You are certainly a better caretaker of myself than I have ever been. When I get into these states…” _

_ “It is hard to break away.” _

Caleb shook his way out of the memory and stood. He certainly didn’t feel like traveling to any public dining spaces, so he settled for some spare bread and jam he kept in his cupboard. As he spread it out, he tried not to think about Essek, and the way he had so quietly wanted to take care of Caleb, keep him well. Like he genuinely  _ cared _ .

He wasn’t tired, but he couldn’t bear to open that damn book again. Instead he settled by the singular window overlooking the Candles outside, and took in the night air. It wasn’t the same as those nights spent building pillow forts in inn rooms, but he could find peace within his mind as he observed the stars.

He didn’t realize he’d been drifting off until Nott’s voice pulled him from the depths of slumber.

_ Caleb! I got distracted - we’ve been dealing with some things. Are you there? You can reply to this message. _

Caleb pushed himself up hurriedly, wishing more than anything that he could see her face.

“ _ Ja _ , I’m here. What things? Are you okay? I need your help, but not if you need  _ mine  _ more.”

A few moments passed, and he spent them gazing out of the window, imagining the various places Nott could be hiding.

_ We’ve been having trouble with some mages. We think they’re a rogue faction of the Assembly. Have you heard anything about it? You can reply to this message. _

Caleb’s heart was beating faster. The Assembly was sending mages after his friends? And he was about to ask them to investigate  _ further _ , sticking their necks out more.

“Nothing here. Are they Volstrucker? Are they after you because of your investigations?”

He hated every second of silence that passed.

_ Beau’s pretty sure they’re acting under their own orders. Taking the Assembly’s teachings and warping it into their own way. Our detective work is safe, Jester made sure. Not Ikithon’s people.” _

Caleb had barely managed to come up with a response before Nott interrupted him with another message.

_ It’s nothing we can’t handle, Caleb. They’re easy. What do you need from us? We’re here to help, no matter what. You matter more. Youcanreplytothismessage.” _

Caleb took a deep breath. He needed to have faith in his friends, despite everything that screamed at him to give up on his work and help them. But if these villains were truly stemming from the Assembly, his position here had never mattered more than this moment.

“I - I need more information on where the Beacons come from,” Caleb answered. “Preferably a place, a location that I can go to. Anything helps.”

He could visualize her nodding, muttering to Beau and the others.

_ We’re on the case! Stay safe, and keep studying on your end. Any deadline? Youcanreplytothismessage. _

“I told Essek I would meet with him in a week,” Caleb answered, and suddenly all of his feelings about Essek came barreling to the forefront of his thoughts. He debated telling Nott any of it, but she was busy. All of the Nein were. There was no point in divulging the intricacies of his stupid infatuations. He could handle the drow just fine.

“I trust you. Stay safe yourself,  _ ja _ ? Don’t let some stupid mages bring Nott the Brave down.”

He imagined a small laugh from his friend. There was no ensuing message.

*******

The week went by in a blur of studying and sleeping, with haphazard messages peppered in between. They never said much - Beau would find a half-ripped page here, Jester would charm someone there. Caduceus at one point managed to eavesdrop on an entire conversation between two of the mages, a significant feat were it not for the fact that they divulged zero secrets and mostly griped about their sentry hours. A day before Essek was due to contact Caleb, the wizard had next to nothing besides the notes he had taken from the book (which were as useless as a children’s story would be to an esteemed literature enthusiast) and what little he could make out from the garbled nonsense of all of the Nein’s efforts to feed him information. The Assembly knew how to cover their tracks, and knew how to do it  _ well _ , and whatever this ‘Beacon’ was that Essek had provided to them, its secrets were closely guarded.

Caleb found himself at his desk, spinning a spare coin he had found tucked in one of his pockets, trying not to contemplate the fact that he had no plan.

_ Caleb! Caleb! Beau found something! Like, properly found something! You can reply to this message! _

As much of a joy it was to hear her voice, Caleb didn’t get his hopes up.

“What is it, Nott? Where did you find it?”

The next message was instantaneous.

_ There’s some old ruins, just south of Uthodern. Apparently that’s where Xhorhas found one of their own Beacons! Beau found it in a book that was in...well, doesn’t matter, point is, you should go there! Youcanreplytothismessage. _

Caleb perked up. Maybe his friend was right, maybe this  _ was _ something. And a place that used to house a Beacon was better than no place at all.

“ _ Fantastic, _ Nott!” he replied excitedly. “Send me the exact location, and I’ll take Essek there. Are the Nein alright?”

_ Fit as fiddles. You go, Caleb, see what you can find. At the very least you can learn more about the Beacons from Essek’s reactions, yeah? You can reply to this message. _

“Stay safe, all of you. I’ll be in touch as soon as I’m back.” He let out a breath of relief. “ _ Danke _ , for all that you have done for me.”

He listened carefully as she told him the location - it wasn’t exactly hidden. In fact, as he paged through an atlas he had on his shelves, he realized it was only a few miles off the beaten trail, tucked away in a parallel valley to the main road. Easy enough to get to, but secluded enough that no one could bother them.

_ Now, to convince Ikithon _ .

He couldn’t exactly lie directly to his master’s face - the archmage was far superior than petty deception. But what Caleb could do was something he’d grown quite adept at: half-truths.

It was midday, and Caleb knew Ikithon would most likely be in his own study. As much as it pained Caleb to use a spell so near and dear to his friend’s heart, he wagered announcing himself first would decrease any further anger from Ikithon. So he pulled out a thin copper wire and focused.

“Master Ikithon. Apologies for the delay, but I have my plan for Herr Thelyss. Would you like me to meet you at your study?”

Caleb had to bite his tongue to keep himself from reflexively saying ‘you can reply to this message.’

The sound of Ikithon’s voice in his head was one Caleb usually associated with nightmares and terrors of insanity, so the sound shocked him, no matter how much he’d been expecting it.

_ Do not waste my time. I’ll send Suni to collect your information, and you can expect to leave when needed. Do not disappoint me with this, Bren. _

The voice disappeared, and Caleb realized he was sitting on his bed, clutching at the bedsheets as icy cold sweat dripped down his neck. He realized he couldn’t breathe, and forced himself to take long deep breaths.

_ Get a hold of yourself _ he chastised his terrified mind.  _ You won’t be able to defeat him if you let even his voice rule your head. _

He was in the middle of stripping off his shirt, which was weighing down on him immensely, when there was a knock at the door. He gripped the shirt in one hand as he opened the door with another. Suni was standing there, their brown hair slightly lopsided and their cheeks distinctly pink. They were panting hard as if they’d run all the way here.

“Mage Wido - oh! Oh, I can, um, come back…”

Caleb realized he was standing shirtless before this highly embarrassed student, and he instinctively closed the door partially to cover his chest.

“Did Master Ikithon send you?” he asked, one arm still resting on the open door frame.

“Yes, he wants to know the details of your plan.”

“Tell him that I’m going to visit an old ruin south of Uthodern so I may better learn of Herr Thelyss’ potential as a threat,” he explained. “I would just need a teleportation circle to the city, and I could travel from there.”

Suni, who had been nodding as he continued to speak, let their eyes drift slightly to the right, and suddenly focused on Caleb’s arm.

“Are you listening to me?” Caleb snapped, somewhat tired and eager to go rest.

“Ruin south of Uthodern, need a circle, yup.” They snapped their attention back to Caleb’s face, but their eyes kept wandering. “Um, sir...how did you  _ get _ those, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Caleb realized with a start that Suni was staring at the scars on his wrists. He retracted his arm as if he had been burned, hugging it close to his chest, but Suni didn’t seem dissuaded by his actions. Caleb softened slightly, looking them up and down.

“You give up a few things, chasing knowledge,” he admitted. “I expect you’ll learn that soon enough.”

Suni looked like they wanted to say something further, but thought better of it. Instead, they bowed politely, and walked away. As soon as they reached the corner of the hallway, they burst into a sprint. Caleb shook his head with a soft smile and retreated back inside.

He fell back on his bed, arms splayed to his sides, and closed his eyes. He was going on this trip to find out more. To learn. To figure out more about what, exactly, Essek had been doing, what he had given to the Assembly. And if he were really worth saving.

_ Of course he is _ . The thought was digging itself deeper and deeper into Caleb’s mind, and half of him wanted to hate it, to tear it out and burn it. But the other half wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that Essek was genuine and real and caring and trustworthy, that he wouldn’t gladly stab Caleb in the back, because  _ of course he wouldn’t _ .

Caleb pushed a pillow tightly against his face and growled in frustration.

*******

Caleb was staring outside, watching a family of birds make a nest on the sill below him, when he received Essek’s message.

_ Caleb. I am prepared to leave. Where are we going? I look forward to it, whatever it is. I have missed your company this week. _

It was so much to unpack that Caleb almost missed the magical window to respond.

“Essek.” His name was sweet to say. “We’re traveling to a ruin near Uthodern. I hope to uncover dunamantic secrets - I hope you don’t mind my initiative.” And, because he was feeling brave, he added: “I’ve missed you too.”

He hated the silence that followed. It was immense and frightening. He forced himself to his feet and stumbled over to his mirror.

“What are you doing,  _ dummkopf? _ ” he demanded of his reflection. “Are you  _ trying _ to ruin the whole plan?”

But what he’d said was true. He  _ had _ missed Essek. Dearly and severely, and right now he finally had a chance to see him.

_ Mage Widogast _ ? Suni’s voice echoed through his head, the soft fuzziness of a message and not the distinct crispness of a full sending.  _ Master Ikithon has prepared the northern tower for teleportation to Uthodern. He says you should leave soon. _

Of course he did. He wanted Caleb to start back on his mission  _ yesterday _ . But at least this meant he wouldn’t have to deal with his master on the way out.

“ _ Danke _ , Suni,” he responded. “Enjoy your studies while I am gone,  _ ja _ ?”

He desperately wanted them to. To hold tight to the fire that was learning and avoid the burns that would soon follow.

He straightened up and checked his reflection in the mirror. He slicked back his hair the best he could, pulling it back tightly in its cord, and fingered at the beard that was slowly but surely growing in. He needed a shave.

He scoffed at himself, focusing on his appearance, as if he wanted to impress. But he wanted to. He wanted to look good.

He tried to convince himself it was for everyone. And not for one specific drow.

He grabbed a tunic and forced it over his head with spite.


	9. Dust to Dust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, i dug through a fuck ton of wiki articles and honestly there's not much info on Dunamancy beyond what's seen in the show (at least, that I could find) so - it's FREE REAL ESTATE, BABY

The short trip to Uthodern was uneventful, and Caleb was barely stepping out of the circle when Essek met him at the door.

“You’re late,” he said with a smile.

“Are you... _ joking _ with me, Herr Thelyss?” Caleb asked.

The smile grew wider, accompanied by a flush in his cheeks.

“I wasn’t sure how it would land,” he said, ducking his head.

Caleb laughed and offered his arm.

“Well,” he responded, and led them both out.

Their travel arrangements had been prepared for them by the good graces (if such a thing existed) of Ikithon. The two of them would be traveling alone, but the road was relatively clear and safe, albeit off the beaten trail. The whole time they prepped themselves, Caleb kept stealing glances at Essek. The drow had opted to forego his elaborate mantle for a more travel-friendly outfit, but there were still elements of silver embroidered into the edges of the fabric that matched his hair beautifully. Caleb forced his eyes away. He had a mission, and he swore he would follow it, distractions be damned.

The journey was relatively short lived, the morning sun barely reaching afternoon, before the ruin crested into view. It was half buried in snow, with ice covering what little rock was exposed, but Caleb could spot the area in which the stone dipped down into the earth, revealing an entrance into further excavation.

“Have you ever visited here before, Essek?” Caleb asked, breaking the somewhat awkward silence that had lingered over them for a few hours now.

“No,” he said, looking around him as they wandered further into the ruin center. “But do not mistake my inexperience for ignorance. This place contains knowledge more valuable than any measly book.”

Caleb tried to get a good read on him, to suss out his true thoughts, but just then the sun shifted through the clouds slightly, and Essek had to readjust the positioning of his parasol, blocking his face temporarily from view. Caleb felt disappointed, but strangely not because of the failed insight, but because for a brief few moments he couldn’t see Essek’s face.

_ Focus _ he demanded of himself.

They approached the entrance to the ruin with caution, but things seemed quiet and serene. A cold wind blew through the empty field, and the two of them hurried forward to seek shelter. The stone around them had glyphs and markings carved into its face, but they were so worn away by the elements that Caleb couldn’t make out anything. Essek turned to him, folding away his parasol with a wave of his hand, and gestured inwards. Caleb nodded, and they descended into the ruin together.

Inside was much warmer, a fact which surprised Caleb. The incline led slowly downwards before the opening narrowed into a tight staircase, which the two of them traversed carefully.

“What is it that you are hoping to accomplish here, Caleb?” Essek asked as they were halfway down the steps.

“I hope for knowledge,” Caleb answered matter-of-factly. “And clarity. Your teachings are extensive, Essek, but in the grand scheme of things they are limited. I thought we’d get straight to the source.”

“Understandable,” Essek replied. “Though I do wonder what - ”

His foot landed on a loose piece of rock, and it slipped out from underneath him. He stumbled forwards, but Caleb, who was below him, deftly stepped up and caught Essek’s arm. He guided the drow back into position on the stairs, and Essek stared at him. Their hands were still touching, Essek’s cool to the touch, and Caleb didn’t want to break away.

“I, uh - ” Essek cleared his throat, and Caleb snapped out of it. “I thank you.”

“O - of course,” Caleb said, stepping backwards. “B - be careful,  _ ja _ ?”

Essek nodded, and they continued down together.

The narrow passage down eventually ended, opening up into a wide room, with a large domed ceiling. The aspect of ruin still existed, but things were significantly more well kept down here. The walls were covered with inscriptions, runes and sigils and writings in languages Caleb was certain he did not know but could certainly find out, and they all seemed to be almost glowing with a subtle blue hue.

“It...it looks uncannily like a library,” Essek commented. He gestured to the rocks around him. “Well, if one could consider crushed rock and fallen debris a library.”

But what caught Caleb’s attention were the scattered remains of books, paper turned to almost dust, strewn out on the floor.

“A library for certain,” he said, moving forward with a purpose. He targeted a small heap of books that had obviously fallen from an overturned bookshelf that was now nothing more than a collection of splintered wood. He gently picked up a book, careful not to disturb its old pages, and began to flip through it.

“I’ll have to cast Comprehend Languages,” he mentioned almost casually to Essek, who was gliding into the room. “Would you like to look further in?”

Essek nodded, and made his way towards the back of the room, where Caleb could see another doorway.

He settled into a seated position and began the ritual for the spell. The time passed too slowly, and he was aware of the deafening silence around him. The place might have been just a ruin, but it eerily felt like a tomb.

The spell completed, and Caleb blinked a few times as it took effect. The book in front of him came into focus, and he began to read.

He cycled through that one and several more, trying to find information, but this particular pile seemed to be mostly about the history of the ruin and less about the magic within it. He pocketed it anyway, hoping that even the smallest of information could help further down the line.

“Essek?” he called inwards as he stood up. “Have you found anything?”

“Yes.  _ Something _ .”

Caleb moved towards his voice, leaving behind the destroyed library and entering the adjacent room. This one was twelve times brighter, due to the runes along the walls pulsing steadily with flashes of blue energy. In front of them lay what was obviously a laboratory of some kind, though like the room before the furniture was half-destroyed. Broken glass peppered the ground, and there was a distinct acidic smell coursing through the stale air. Caleb instinctively moved forward, but Essek caught him by the sleeve.

“I don’t believe you’ve been entirely honest with me,” he said.

“I’m sorry?” Fear pooled in Caleb’s stomach.

“You came here because of the Beacon, didn’t you?”

Caleb bit his lip and looked away.

“I...I didn’t want - ”

But to his surprise, Essek wasn’t scowling. He was  _ laughing _ , albeit softly, with a smile across his face.

“You really are an aspiring mage, aren’t you Caleb?” He squeezed Caleb’s arm, his fingers dancing above the fabric that covered his scars, and a chill ran through his skin. “‘Dunamantic secrets’ indeed. You know, I do believe you are the first Assembly member that has actually cared enough about magic that is beyond them that they seek it out so fully.”

Caleb scoffed.

“You clearly do not know the Assembly.”

“I know enough about them to know that they are the type to expect things to come to  _ them _ ,” Essek answered. “They would not know the true nature of dunamancy if it bit them on the nose.”

Caleb stared at him. He looked angry, spiteful even.

“And you would?” he countered, attempting to lead somewhere that Caleb didn’t know how to properly traverse.

Essek let out a short laugh.

“We  _ both _ would.” He sighed. “Whatever you are after here - I am more than happy to help. You are different from the rest, I can tell.”

Despite himself, Caleb felt a blush creep into his cheeks.

“I hope I can make good on that belief,” he said quietly, meaning every word.

“I know you will. Now.” He turned to face the laboratory. “Let us find our purpose here, shall we?”

They both wandered through the wreckage, Caleb pushing aside glass with his foot in search of notes, paper, anything of use. But aside from the runes on the wall, there was nothing of value. He turned his attention to them, trying to parse their meaning, as Essek agreed to go explore the rest of the ruin.

The best Caleb could figure after almost ten minutes of examination was that the runes were a power source of some kind, or at least a diagram to produce one. He wrote it all down, despite it not being what he was looking for, and retreated from the room to go find Essek.

The library had two more doors leading to other parts of the ruin, each on opposite ends, and he followed Essek’s calls to the one on the right. It opened out into a large atrium of some sort, though it felt as if the whole room was tilted somewhat, the floor sloped at an angle. Pillars rose from the base of the room, cracked at the top from the weird axis, and as they both examined them Caleb realized they weren’t pillars at all.

“I...I think these are some sort of...activators,” he explained to Essek as they both roamed around the room. “See here, look - ”

He pointed to an engraving at the bottom of each pillar, a symbol that he recognized from the laboratory drawings.

“I believe these need a special sort of magic. There are four of them, and they all lead…”

He followed the arrangement of the pillars to the center of the tilted room, where an empty circle was carved into the stone floor.

“Here.” He looked up at Essek. “Can you think of something we could - ”

“A step ahead of you,” Essek replied with a smile. He reached down to one of the engravings and touched it with a finger. The air around it seemed to split, and suddenly the stone of the pillar had shifted into something more monochrome, as if cast into heavy shadow. All at once, the odd lighting seemed to surge, and a line Caleb hadn’t noticed before shot out to meet the circle in the middle.

“What did you do?” Caleb asked.

“It requires dunamantic magic. So I simply shifted the stone from this reality into another’s.”

Caleb blinked. “You can do that?”

“Only on small, rudimentary objects. But yes.”

Essek circled around the remaining three pillars, repeating the magic as Caleb watched, entranced. He almost wanted to take notes, but he figured he would save it for another day. Instead, he watched as the final line illuminated the circle, and the entire carving lit up. The darkened alternate reality’s light began to dig into the stone, and something  _ cracked _ . The two of them instinctively took a step back as the stone shifted entirely, revealing a hole in the ground that wasn’t there before. The light faded, and the realities righted themselves, save for the small hole, which radiated a type of magic that Caleb felt simultaneously drawn to and repulsed by. He looked over to Essek.

“What do you think it is?”

Essek shrugged.

“I’m not sure. But we should - ”

A loud thundering sound echoed through the doorway behind them. They turned in time to see a large figure charging towards them before it crashed through the stone doorway, sending both of them stumbling back. Caleb scrambled for his components as he saw Essek right himself, fingers flexing, as they took in the creature.

It was made of a sort of metal, but not refined - more like it had melted across stone in the rough form of a humanoid, but large and immense. It wielded a large crude hammer, and within what could be called its head a bright purple light emitted a bright beam.

Essek was the first to move, throwing himself to the left to take cover behind a pillar. He threw some sort of spell towards the golem, but it glanced off its metal armor. It let out a roar - a horrible screech that sounded of metal screeching on bone - and rushed towards Essek.

Caleb got there first, throwing a firebolt at its head just to simply distract it towards him. He backed up, trying to kite it around the room.

From behind the golem, Essek reached out a hand and twisted it. Reality shifted once again, forming a shadow silhouette of Essek that ran across the room, catching the golem’s attention. It took a swipe at the shadow, but its hammer went right through it, and it growled.

In a panic, as it turned its head back towards Caleb, he threw out some iron powder in the direction of Essek, and the drow grew larger, enough to meet the golem’s height. Essek took this in stride and cast another spell, this one obviously damage focused, but the golem’s purple light flashed brilliantly, and suddenly something hit Caleb full force in the shoulder, and he fell backwards and hit the ground hard. Pain crept through his skin as he looked down and saw his skin already beginning to bruise horrible with the force damage. He blinked and realized he had lost his concentration on Essek, and he watched with horror as the drow shrank back down and the golem towered over him as it focused its attention back on Essek, who backed away, fear in his eyes. Caleb saw it through his pain and desperately grasped for the phosphorus. He squelched it through his hand and cast the wall of fire directly between the golem and Essek. The drow stumbled back in shock, leaving the golem to whirl around and charge over to Caleb, who was still reeling from the pain and couldn’t react in time. He saw the monster bearing down hard, raising its giant hammer, and did the only thing he could do - shield his face and  _ pray _ .

As the blow fell, nothing hit. Caleb looked up, gasping, and he just barely managed to get a glimpse of the golem frozen in place, before it quickly folded in on itself as if made of paper. In an instant, the entire creature was gone, save for its head, which hit the floor with a large  _ thunk _ and rolled away, the purple light dimming to nothing.

“Caleb!” Essek cried, stumbling over to him. The drow looked winded, and utterly exhausted, but he was still standing. He knelt by Caleb’s side as he struggled to push himself up, wincing and cursing in Zemnian under his tongue as the pain from the deflected spell still dug into him.

“I - I’m so  _ sorry _ , Caleb, I didn’t - ”

“Not your fault,” Caleb managed. “How...how did you do that?”

He gestured over to the fallen golem head. Essek smiled tiredly.

“A high level spell,” he admitted. “Certainly took the wind out of me, I will say.”

“ _ Ja _ .” Caleb forced himself upright. “One day you  _ must _ show me that trick.”

He stared at Essek before realization hit him, and he laughed.

“You used a high level spell to impress me at a dinner party?”

It was Essek’s turn to show an embarrassed flush within his purple cheeks. The sight was cute, and Caleb found himself ignoring the pain a little easier.

“Are you alright?” Essek asked genuinely.

“ _ Ja, ja,  _ I’ll be fine.” Caleb pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. “We should examine that head.”

“Yes, yes. We should do that.”

Essek seemed distracted by Caleb’s well-being, and Caleb waved him off. They both limped carefully over to where the golem’s head lay discarded on the floor. Caleb carefully knelt down next to it and poked at it a few times. The melted metal had cracked upon impact, and it was easy enough to take apart, revealing a dull purple gem within it, that still resonated with an underlying aura to it that Caleb couldn’t explain.

“I’ll need to use Identify,” Caleb told Essek. “Why don’t you look at...whatever that is that we uncovered?”

Essek nodded, and made his way over to the hole in the floor.

Caleb arranged the necessary components around him and began focusing on the gem. It took him some time, and as he did so he was vaguely aware of Essek’s presence behind him, doing the same thing - studying a magical energy. They were so alike. His thoughts drifted to Essek’s words before. He spoke as if he regretted giving the Beacon to the Assembly. Or, at the very least, was upset with the result. But what  _ did _ he give them? Was it simply a method of study? Or was the Beacon more powerful than Caleb had envisioned it?

He supposed he was about to find out.

The spell concluded after ten minutes, and as if unlocking something deep within his mind, what he held before him finally made sense.

This gem was just a fragment of something bigger, and beyond what Caleb could imagine. It was a tiny piece of the Beacon, that much he could tell, and he realized with dawning horror that it wasn’t just a power source. It was a  _ life _ source. The Beacons weren’t just tools of trade, they weren’t just methods of gaining knowledge. They were the core of an entire religion for a  _ reason _ , and Caleb understood now. He understood the gravity of what Essek Thelyss had handed over to the Cerberus Assembly. In the wrong hands, the Beacon wouldn’t just cause a war. It would finish it, and everyone else that stood in its captor’s way.

“Caleb?”

Caleb jumped a mile at Essek’s voice, and he quickly shoved the gem into his pocket. He turned towards the drow, who was standing over the hole in reality at his feet.

“What did you find?” Essek asked innocently. Caleb’s heart was beating faster as he looked at this drow, this person whom he had grown to care about, to show affection towards, to - well, it didn’t matter, because what he was looking at right now was a war criminal.

“It was the power source fueling the golem,” Caleb answered smoothly, not betraying the unsteadiness behind his words. “It will be good to study later. What have you found?”

Essek sighed and shook his head.

“It’s part of a bigger contraption, that none of us have the pieces to, I’m afraid.” He motioned to the cracked skull of the golem. “That thing was protecting it, but without other means, it is simply just this - a small rip that needs to be righted.”

“So that’s it? We’re supposed to walk away from here without its knowledge?”

“I believe that whatever knowledge it could have granted was given to those before us, who called this ruin their home.”

Caleb was growing frustrated. “So it was all for nothing?”

“Not nothing. I studied it while you were working and noted down what I could learn.” He motioned to a small notebook in his hand. “We’ll fix it, and then study these later, yes?”

Caleb realized that this man still wanted to be in his company. Wanted to spend time together. He didn’t realize what Caleb knew, what he had learned, how he felt. And the worst part of all of it was that something in Caleb still  _ wanted it _ . All his time spent with Essek over spellbooks and fine wine, how he had taken care of Caleb, how his smile made Caleb feel as if he were on top of the world.

He wanted all of it more than anything.

“ _ Ja _ ,” he finally managed to say. “ _ Ja _ , later.”

Essek nodded, and pointed to the rip. Almost instantaneously, it folded up, closing in a flash of dark light, leaving nothing but solid stone beneath it.

“Shall we?” Essek asked, gesturing onwards. Caleb grasped Essek’s outstretched arm with slightly shaking fingers and began to walk.

“By the way,” he said as they neared the staircase. “Thank you. For saving me back there.”

“You would have done the same to me,” Essek replied.

The fact that Caleb wasn’t sure if that was true made it feel as if his whole body was being torn in two.

They managed to reemerge at the top, where the sun had long since set.

“Should we make camp?” Essek suggested. “Before we head back in the dark, I mean.”

“ _ Ja _ , I can put up a dome to protect us.”

And so they did, making camp in solemn silence amongst the stones of the ruin. Essek settled down near the fire and Caleb carefully took a seat opposite him, which the drow frowned at.

“I don’t bite, Caleb,” he said. Dully, Caleb realized Essek was joking again. Was it really only earlier that day that he found the attempt so endearing?

_ But you still do. _

“Still recovering,” Caleb said, making up an excuse as he gestured to his shoulder. The bruises hadn’t faded, and though the pain had subsided significantly, there was still a throbbing ache through his muscles.

“I do apologize for that,” Essek said softly. “Hopefully when we return to Uthodern we can get you properly treated.”

“We are somewhat brash in our assumptions that we would be safe,  _ ja _ ?” Caleb said woodenly. “That we neglected to bring along any sort of healing items.”

“They...well.” Essek cleared his throat. “Even if we had them, they wouldn’t work well. That particular brand of magic - it’s meant to hurt, and hurt well.”

The way he said the words, with an air of casuality, like he didn’t consider the fact horrid. And yet there was a glint in his eye at the notion of developing new spells, new ways of study, and Caleb had to duck his head and stare at the fire.

“It’s a good trick,” he whispered.

Essek did not reply.

The night went by uneventfully, and when they rose, they rose in blessed silence. The trip back to Uthodern was just as lovingly quiet, and Caleb was grateful for the opportunity to hide his feelings.

They reached the teleportation circle and Caleb hesitated, if just for a moment. He turned back to Essek, who smiled at him, but there was concern on his face.

“Are you alright, Caleb?” he asked suddenly.

Caleb found he couldn’t respond. Instead, he stepped backwards into the circle. The last thing he saw was Essek’s sad eyes.

Ikithon was thankfully absent from his return, probably content to check in on him some other time.  _ Good _ . He didn’t need that extra stress.

He returned to his chambers, shaking, as he collapsed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The gem was still in his pocket, and he took it out, rolling it between his fingers. Such a small little thing, and yet it spelled disaster.

_ Nott _ . He should message her, tell her everything.

But what would he tell her? He wasn’t even sure what he was telling himself.

He lay there for a few hours, his mind reeling, the gem almost growing warmer in his hand.

Nott came to him first.

_ Caleb? I think you’re supposed to be back by now. How did it go? What did you learn? You can reply to this message. _

Caleb almost purposefully let the reply window fizzle out. But he owed it to his friend to respond.

“The Beacon is more terrible than I ever dreamed,” he whispered, closing his eyes tightly. “And it’s in the hands of the Assembly.”

He couldn’t bring himself to say more. The truth of it all was crashing into his head.

_ Oh. _ Nott sounded scared.  _ Do...do you have a plan? Can Essek help? You can reply to this message. _

_ Essek is the one who gave it to them _ Caleb almost wanted to say.

_ But he didn’t want it in their hands. He thought they were perverting its magic, failing to understand it.  _ His eyes flew open.

“ _ Ja _ , he can help.” Why didn’t he think of this before? “Essek doesn’t like it in their hands. I can use that to my advantage.”

He had stood up, begun pacing, when Nott messaged him again.

_ But...he still thinks you work for them. He thinks you’re on their side. Oh, Caleb, be careful, please. Youcanreplytothismessage. _

“Which is exactly why he’s going to help me,” Caleb answered triumphantly. “I can talk with him. This will  _ help _ . I...I can do this, Nott.”

There was a pause.

_ Beau thinks you’re an idiot. So do I. Don’t kill yourself, okay? You can reply to this message. _

Caleb took a deep breath.

“I won’t. I promise,  _ mein freund _ , I’ll - ”

_ Caleb. _

Essek’s voice interrupted his response, causing him to physically stumble over the chair at his desk. He clutched the wood as he listened to the rest of the message.

_ I must have done something wrong. I don’t know what. Let me apologise in person. Meet me at my estate, tomorrow night. Please come. _

Caleb sank slowly to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest. He pressed his forehead forward and took a deep breath.

Two.

“Nott,” he whispered into the wire. “Make sure I come back after tomorrow.”

He forgot their signature remark, but the tone in Nott’s voice upon her reply told him he didn’t need it.

_ Of course. _


	10. Like Real People Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a shorter chapter but Y'ALL i had so much FUN writing this one

Essek paced alone in his estate, mind teeming with anxiety, confusion,  _ hurt _ .

They had been in the heart of the Beacon’s prior resting place. He wasn’t a fool, he knew what Caleb was doing there. But he thought the wizard would understand once he  _ saw _ , once he realized - 

He had realized too much, that’s what had happened. He had looked into the Beacon’s magic too long and seen the worst of it. The house’s doors had been torn asunder, the basement thrown open, the lock shattered. Caleb had seen what Essek had done in all its horrific glory.

_ But you didn’t know _ . He hadn’t known the carnage the Beacon would wreak when given to the Assembly. He had just wanted knowledge, just wanted to learn.

Or maybe he  _ had _ known. He wasn’t about to lie to himself, say that he was completely innocent. He had done a horrible thing, all for the sake of a foolish dream, one that he had seen the Assembly twist into something perverted,  _ wrong. _

It’s why he thought Caleb was different.  _ Knew _ he was different. It was why he had called him, pleaded with him to talk, to discuss, because he needed to show him that what he had done, he had done with the best of intentions. Caleb would understand. Caleb would forgive him.

He needed that forgiveness. He needed this wizard to view him favorably, because...because  _ what _ ? Because of the way he looked at him? Because of the way his hair fell so frazzled and yet so softly, the way his freckles illuminated those beautiful eyes that gazed into his very  _ soul _ . Because, despite Essek’s practiced composure, he had found himself struck sideways by this wonderful wizard. Because every moment he spent in his company he felt his heart swell.

_ He’s a member of the Assembly, you idiot _ . But maybe that was exactly what he needed - a reason that Caleb would  _ understand _ .

The inaudible chime signaling someone at the gates rang within his head, pulling him out of his thoughts. He took a deep breath, straightened his robes, and strode outside.

Caleb was waiting, looking slightly unkempt. He was wearing a simple outfit with no sign of the Assembly’s insignia, his books tucked faithfully by his sides, but his hair was falling out of its tie, and his tunic was half-tucked, as if he had rushed his way here.

“Essek,” he said as the drow opened the gate. “I...I received your message,” he said, stating the obvious. He stood still, hesitating at the threshold.

“Please,” Essek said, offering his hand brazenly. “Come inside.”

Slowly, as if he did not know what else to do, Caleb took it, and let himself be led into the estate.

“I...I wasn’t sure how best to approach this subject,” Essek admitted, guiding Caleb to a chair. There was a wine bottle, prepped ahead of time, but Caleb made no intention of reaching for it.

“To be honest, Essek,” Caleb attempted. “I am not sure which subject you are talking about.”

The lie was palpable, and Essek sighed, sinking into the chair opposite Caleb.

“I will be frank - I believe what you found within that ruin is more than just a gemstone.”

Caleb closed his eyes. He rifled through his pockets and pulled out the gem - its light was dull and lifeless, but it still seemed to resonate an ancient magic.

“And  _ I _ believe I can help you,” Caleb said softly, placing the gem on the table. “What I learned from this is more than I ever knew about dunamancy, and therefore more than I think the Assembly does.”

It was hard to tell how much of his hand Caleb was revealing, for the words were true regardless of his ignorance to Essek’s transgressions.

“Let me help you study more of this, Herr Thelyss.” The use of the proper name rang hollow in Essek’s ears. “I can be an ally of yours.”

Essek leaned forward.

“You would not wish to report your findings directly back to your master?”

It was almost imperceptible, but Essek saw Caleb wince at the word.

“I am a scholar first,” Caleb said. “An Assembly member second. And anything I can gain from you, I can use to...put yourself in a better position.”

The sentence didn’t feel like blackmail. It felt like an olive branch.

“It’s funny,” Essek said, sinking back into his chair. The piece was comfortable, with a soft fur lining, but right now it felt brittle and hard against his rigid spine. “To think that when we first started this...relationship.” He didn’t know how else to define it. “We were trying to establish peace between two warring nations.”

“Who’s to say we can’t still have that?” Caleb replied. He spoke so casually, yet there was an air of tension radiating from his taut posture. “What’s to stop us from learning more than anyone and using that knowledge to achieve greater things?”

He seemed to be almost pleading. His hair kept falling out of its bindings, and he wasn’t bothering to tie it back up.

“And what of your Assembly?” Essek asked. “They won’t take too kindly to one of their own gone rogue.”

A smirk curled onto Caleb’s lips.

“You assume this would be me defecting,” he said, and the coyness in his voice sent a chill through Essek’s blood. “What Assembly member have you met  _ didn't _ have their own agenda? My own master pursues his own goals, and yet he always ties them back into the Assembly. You have to  _ understand _ me, Thelyss.”

At this he moved forward and caught Essek’s hand. Essek didn’t withdraw, instead captured by the hauntingly manic fire burning within Caleb’s eyes.

“This magic...dunamancy, the Beacons,  _ all of it. _ You said it yourself, you don’t like the idea of the Assembly getting close to it. So let  _ me _ . Let me in, and I can help you.”

In another life, Essek would have called the whole thing a scam. A method of tricking him into a false sense of security, only to be stabbed in the back the first moment his opponent saw him as useless. A part of him  _ screamed _ that this was all this was. Caleb, offering a contract to sign that would remove him of his own agency.

But this was  _ Caleb _ . This was the wizard who studied with such fervor, who was so entranced by dunamancy, by magic in general, who wanted to learn and gain and utilize the way things  _ should _ be.

The way Essek had hoped the Assembly would have done, a long time ago.

Maybe this was his way of making amends. Maybe, through Caleb, he could find his way back to the right path.

And maybe, along the way, he could share that path with this beautiful man.

Essek stood suddenly, knocking the table with his knees as he did so.

“Would - ” He cleared his throat. “Would you come to my tower with me?”

Caleb stared at him as he outstretched his hand. He hesitated for all of a second, before he took it and pulled himself to his feet.

“Of course.”

They climbed slowly but surely, Essek occasionally chancing glances back at Caleb, who looked more curious than anything.

The door opened, revealing a somewhat messy room, and Essek moved over to the pile of papers present on the desk.

“This is what I managed to glean from the rip we found in the ruin,” he explained. His heart was pounding already as Caleb drew closer, his fingers ghosting over Essek’s as he took the papers for himself. He flipped through them, then shook his head.

“It is not a lot,” he said.

“On its own.” Essek moved over to the bookshelf, removing a particularly dusty tome and returning to Caleb’s side. “But with the proper outside knowledge…”

Caleb took the book and was already halfway into it, finding a matching page.

“It’s some sort of transport,” he observed. “See, here, it’s akin to teleportation.”

He pointed to a rune they had transcribed from the walls of the ruin. Almost without thinking he pushed aside the book in favor of reaching for a pen and began to draw frantically.

“Can you - ?” he asked, pointing towards the book.

“Yes,” Essek replied. “I believe there’s information on dunamantic conjuration…”

And so they began their hunt, speaking in urgent tones in sparse words, working off each other like they had always been partners. Essek grasped for more books as Caleb scribbled, then they would switch, until they were practically back to back, firing off ideas in an attempt to force their way past the first blockade, then the next one, and the next, until suddenly there was four times as much paper and the books had tripled.

They ended up shifting to the floor, there was so much information surrounding them, and though hunger hit each of them in turn they refused to get up. Caleb would reach for something and Essek would be two steps ahead, and he found that their hands were touching more and more, and that they were closer physically than they ever had been, and he didn’t care, he  _ liked _ it, this intimacy of study between two minds sharper than anything, where he could feel Caleb’s breath on his neck as he peered over Essek’s shoulder at something below him, and he got so lost in the magic around him that when it all clicked, when it all came together, he almost didn’t notice it.

He was halfway to reaching for another book when Caleb stopped him, grasping his hand and bringing it back down, squeezing.

“Look,” he said softly, inclining his head towards the mess in front of them.

Essek tried to, he really did. But for some reason, the end result of their hours of hard work didn’t interest him. All that mattered was Caleb’s giddy smile, the way his long hair had completely detached itself from any semblance of binding, his wide blue eyes, as he stared down at the resulting spell.

“This...this is  _ fascinating _ ,” Caleb said, his breath heaving. “I’ve never seen...Essek, what do you - ?”

He looked up at Essek to find the drow not bothering with the spell, only focused on Caleb’s face. He stared at him with those beautiful blue eyes.

Essek closed the gap between them in one swift movement, his lips pressing against Caleb’s oh so delicately. He let the kiss linger, if only for a moment, then fell back with a soft gasp. He looked up at Caleb, scared of what, he did not know, only watching his eyes with the care a prey might have of a predator.  _ It was too much _ . _ You should cut and run while you still have a chance. _

There existed a second that seemed to last a lifetime, where the two wizards simply looked at each other. Essek was about to bolt when Caleb grabbed his lapel and pulled him forward, kissing him with a vengeance.

The rest of the world vanished, for all that mattered was  _ this _ . This feeling of softness, of the warmth of Caleb’s breath as it ghosted his cheek, the way his hands ran up his arms. Essek’s fingers sought purchase of something,  _ anything _ , and he found himself weaving them into Caleb’s loose hair as the man pushed Essek back against the desk behind him, delving further with his lips, his tongue.

Somehow, in the midst of it, they managed to break apart in time for Essek to gasp out a semblance of word structure.

“Y - you don’t  _ know _ me.”

“I know enough,” Caleb responded, caressing Essek’s cheek.

“I - I don’t know  _ you _ .”

This time, there was a beat of pause, before Caleb breathed “Does it matter?”

It didn’t. All reason had gone out the window, along with common sense, for it was another few minutes of heavy kissing before Essek realized they were still splayed on top of all their notes. A portion of the spell’s ink had smeared slightly.

“Caleb.” Essek managed to surface between movements. “Caleb, we should…”

Caleb retreated for a few seconds, and in that brief moment that he wasn’t there Essek missed him  _ dearly _ . He watched as Caleb surveyed the scene and began to laugh at the mess they’d caused. He unsteadily got to his feet, pulling Essek up too. His hand never left Essek’s, and he stared at where their skin met, then up to Essek’s face.

“Do you want to - ?”

“Yes,” Essek answered immediately.

They were halfway down the stairs, his spare hand chasing after the doorknob, when he stopped, back pressed against the wood behind him.

“What about the Assembly?” he asked, scared of the response. “You were meant to collaborate, not - ”

“Does this not count as collaboration?” Caleb answered with a small smirk. He planted a small kiss on the underside of Essek’s chin.

Essek forced himself to stay grounded, if not for just one minute.

“All your talk of becoming my ally,” he said quietly. “Of the two of us taking them on.”

Caleb paused before he could continue kissing Essek’s neck. He instead grasped Essek closer into an embrace.

“I want nothing more than to be by your side,” he whispered, holding Essek tightly. “Please believe me.”

Essek felt his heart leap into his throat at how raw and honest the words were. He softened in Caleb’s touch and kissed his ear, before traveling down the rest of his face and settling at his soft lips.

He turned the knob, and the door behind him fell open.


	11. In Our Bedroom After the War

The world was quiet when Caleb awoke.

He felt warmth encircling him, a good warmth that reminded him of Nott’s hugs. Of Beau’s playful punches. Of all the kindness he had come to associate with his family. And yet somehow this felt like something  _ more _ . Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, something he didn’t know it was possible to feel again.

He didn’t immediately open his eyes, instead opting to raise his fingers and gently trace the weight that was draped over him. He met a hand, its skin cool to the touch, which led to an arm that was holding him tightly, which led to…

_ Essek _ .

Caleb could feel the drow’s soft breathing against the back of his neck, and it only made the warmth more enjoyable.

_ What have you done? _ he asked himself.  _ This was a mistake, a costly mistake. _

But did it matter, in this moment? Could he not permit himself a few blessed moments in the darkened morning, embraced in the arms of someone whom he…

Was love the right word? Surely there was something more intellectual than a silly phrase used by children. This wasn’t  _ love _ , this was the result of an intelligent attraction to somebody so well-versed in their art that he convinced Caleb to - 

Essek shifted in his sleep, whispering a word Caleb could not make out, and he realized where, exactly, he was. Lying naked in another man’s bed, the world around him inconsequential to the beautiful feelings blossoming in his chest.

_ Very well  _ he permitted himself.  _ The consequences can come later. _

Caleb was not about to argue with that. And a small part of him, deep down, beneath all the guilt and the anguish that festered in his every day emotions - that minuscule spark begged the world to let him enjoy this.

He lay his head back down, kissed Essek’s fingers, and slipped back into slumber.

*********

_ He was strapped to a chair, arms bare and forced forward. Ikithon was there, holding glowing crystals with sharp points, reassuring him that the pain was nothing compared to the power he would be gaining. _

_ Ikithon was wrong. _

_ The crystals dug under his skin, cruel and unrelenting, carving away at his outer core, and as they hit his nerves it was like fire was burning up his arm, into his very mind. He screamed, but no one but Ikithon heard, and he didn’t care. The magical energy spat up in short bursts, before fizzling out, leaving nothing but blood trickling down his skin. _

_ “I’m disappointed in you, Bren,” he said, his voice calm but his rage horribly palpable. _

_ Ikithon produced another crystal, and he tried to pull away but he was stuck there, begging for release, for an end to the pain, to everything. _

**_Take them out, take them out_ **

_ “You have been gone too long.” Ikithon’s voice was relentless, and now he had lowered the crystals, in favor of preparing a spell. It would be worse, for he could not counter it. He wanted to, he should, but the pain was too much, and now there was fire heading towards him and -  _

Caleb woke up shouting nonsense, cowering from an invisible source of flame, and he was awake, he  _ knew _ he was awake, but Ikithon’s voice was still in his head, resonating like a thunderstorm.

_ You will return within the hour, or what awaits you here will be two-fold. _

“ _ Aufhören,” _ he begged. “ _ Bitte, aufhören - ” _

“Caleb!”

There were hands on him, now, real and physical, and he flinched away from them, trying to escape, but they held fast, and there was no way out, nothing but pain promised by the crystals, by  _ him _ , by - 

“Caleb, please!”

He recognized that voice. It wasn’t demanding, cold, calculating. It was warm, soft, beautiful, something so kind, so - 

Caleb blinked, and found himself looking up into the concerned face of Essek Thelyss.

Without thinking, he buried his face into Essek’s shoulder, letting loose a wracked sob as the drow awkwardly hugged him, smoothing his loose hair with his delicate fingers.

“E - everything’s alright,” he said softly, clearly unsure what to do in this situation. “W - was it a bad dream?”

All Caleb could do was nod. He clutched at Essek’s back, his shaking fingers finding purchase on the drow’s slender shoulders.

“Are…” Essek’s voice trailed off as he continued running his fingers through Caleb’s hair. “Are you okay?”

Caleb didn’t want to let go. But he had heard Ikithon, and he knew what would come if he didn’t follow his master’s orders.

“I - ” He choked on his words as he whispered them into Essek’s soft skin. “I have to go.”

“Go? Go where?”

Caleb sucked in a deep and shaky breath and slowly detached himself from Essek. He took in the situation - the sheets had been shoved to one side, leaving him unclothed on the bed, a situation that he had been content and happy with not a sleep before, but now left him feeling vulnerable and wary. He grasped for some pants off the ground and stumbled out of bed, narrowly missing Essek’s hand as it reached out to grab his own.

“Caleb, please don’t leave,” he said, sounding hurt.

“I - I’ll come back,” Caleb managed. His heart was still pounding far too much for him to be comfortable. “I - I need to go.”

In the moment where he paused to pull on his shirt, Essek managed to snag his fingers. Caleb looked down at him and his pleading eyes.

“Don’t let him separate us,” he said firmly. “Please.”

Caleb could make no such promises. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to Essek’s lips, pushing as much love and cherishment as he could into the action.

He was gone from the room before Essek could respond.

************

Ikithon was on him the instant he stepped out of the circle.

There was no one else in the room, a fact Caleb realized only after his master grabbed him by the lapel and pinned him against the wall in a feat of strength that should certainly not have been capable in his older state, but clearly paltry things like age were not going to stop an arch mage of the Cerberus Assembly.

“Where were you?” Ikithon demanded, his tone oh so casual and masking the utter fury beneath it. “You returned from your trip to the ruins only to use the circle to Rosohna  _ without _ my permission - ”

“M - master, I - ” Caleb tried, but Ikithon wasn’t having any of it.

“ - and you disappear for the night doing - ”

He stopped short, leaning just a hair forward. Caleb attempted to push himself away, but the wall behind him was solid rock, and he couldn’t move. Ikithon’s displeased face turned sour, eyebrows knitting together. His grip on Caleb tightened.

“Really, you wouldn't be so foolish as to think I wouldn't notice, would you Bren?” he asked, and this time his anger was audible. A chill ran down Caleb’s spine.

“I - I don’t - ”

“If you know him so... _ intimately -  _ ” He said the word like he was disgusted with it being in his mouth. “ - then you will be able to tell me what you know of him.”

Caleb hesitated.

“ _ Sprechen!” _ Ikithon snapped.

Caleb knew he should, but Essek’s soft face was all he could think about.

“I - I can’t,” he whispered.

For a brilliant fleeting moment, Caleb existed in a world where you could say ‘no’ to Master Trent Ikithon and get away with it.

Then the illusion was broken, in the form of excruciating  _ pain _ .

He was back in that dark room, the crystals digging into his arms, but it was all over his body - a thousand knives, burrowing their way under his skin slowly, agonizingly, with care and consideration for exactly how long it would take before they became lethal. Caleb  _ screamed _ , howling as he felt his body collapse in shock, falling to his knees, sinking against the wall, but still the pain persisted, and he knew it would never end unless he - 

“H - he w - wants it t - to s - stop,” he choked out, and it clearly wasn’t enough, for the knives were still there, and he thought he would die if he didn’t keep talking. “W - wants to t - take it back.”

“ _ What _ ?” The voice could have been miles away, but Caleb heard it.

“The B - Beacon. He d - doesn’t like how t - the Assembly is...he thinks they’re perverting it.”

“ _ And? _ ”

A spike of agony clenched above Caleb’s heart, and he cried out.

“A - and he’ll...he’ll withhold information. K - keep it f - from -  _ bitte, bitte, das weiß ich, das weiß ich!” _

He was begging, now, for it was all he could do, and suddenly the pain was gone. He went limp, falling unceremoniously to the floor, and he curled into a ball, sobbing in the aftershock. Vaguely, he was aware of Ikithon towering over him, but didn’t register him fully until his master’s foot prodded him fiercely in the chest.

“I have a task for you, Bren.” Even throughout all of this, the man kept a cool exterior, and Caleb hated it. He  _ wanted _ him to get emotional, he  _ wanted _ him to raise his voice, for that would mean Ikithon had lost control, that he was capable of being  _ beaten _ .

“It will be your punishment for your transgressions.”

Caleb did not reply, but Ikithon knew he was listening.

“The drow will be summoned to Rexxentrum, under the guise of meeting  _ you _ . With his guard down, you will eliminate him. Is that understood?”

Caleb bent his head low, trying to block out Ikithon’s words.

“ _ Versteht du mich? _ ” he asked, the Zemnian hammering home exactly how angry he was.

“ _ Ja _ ,” Caleb managed. “ _ Ja _ ,  _ Ich verstehe dich.” _

“Good. Now get up, you pathetic  _ müll.  _ I expect you dressed in  _ washed _ clothes, so I do not smell the stink of that drow.”

Caleb shuddered, but forced himself upright.

“Yes, master.”

“Thelyss will arrive tomorrow morning. Fail me again, and I’ll make you watch me torture him.”

The threat was thrown out so casually, but it hurt Caleb possibly more than any of the pain from before. He watched as Ikithon straightened his robes and walked out of the room, leaving Caleb to sink back against the wall, praying that it would swallow him whole. His whole body was shaking, and he could barely breathe. His nerves were still recovering from whatever spell Ikithon had used. He couldn’t think properly, couldn’t even focus.

So it was a damned miracle that he heard Nott when he did.

_ Caleb, Caleb, where have you been? I tried getting a hold of you but - are you back, are you okay, are you - ? _

There was no signature, so Caleb figured she had been sending it multiple times, just waiting for him to get back within range. He took a breath that rattled in his wet throat.

“ _ Nott.” _ He almost started crying again just at her name. “He’s making me kill him, Nott. He found out about everything, and he…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything more, and let the spell window close. When she replied, Nott sounded stunned, worried, and frightened.

_ Y - you’ll stop it though, right Caleb? You’ll be okay, of course you will. You’re stronger than him. _

Caleb forced himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the wall. He stared at the exit to the room, where Ikithon had left, after telling Caleb what he had to do.

“I’m not,” Caleb gasped. “But you’re right. I  _ can _ stop this. Because Ikithon doesn’t realize who I really am.”

_ Caleb, you’ve worked so hard to get there. Are you sure? _

Caleb had never been more sure about anything in his life.

“Yes.” He squared his shoulders. “If you don’t hear from me by tomorrow…”

He didn’t have an answer to that contingency plan.

_ I’ll come getcha. We all will. You can reply to this message. _

He permitted himself a scant few more tears at the endearing sound of her words. He clutched at his clothes and tried to imagine what it was like, only a few hours prior, where it was just him and Essek, alone in a bedroom with nothing on their minds except each other.

He would stop this.

He had to.

“Take care of yourself,” he whispered to Nott. “Then come and save your  _ dummkopf _ friend of yours, okay?”

He didn’t wait for her reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't apologize, bc it's only gonna get worse before it gets better.


	12. If You Love Me, Come Clean

That night was the longest night of Caleb’s life.

He didn’t have the heart to message Nott, knowing it would just worry her more, so he instead focused on his plan. A stupid plan, really, idiotic and dangerous and certain to end in failure, but he owed it to Essek. Knew that he would understand. Knew that together, they could put a stop to this whole thing.

He didn’t think about Ikithon’s wrath, didn’t think about the Assembly’s power. All he knew was that Essek deserved the truth, and with it, the freedom to turn against what had held him down.

Morning came, and Caleb hadn’t slept. He was staring at the wall, mind teeming, when there was a knock at the door. He carefully opened it to reveal Suni, who was looking distinctly more formal and severely less bubbly than they had before.

“Master Ikithon asked me to pass on a message,” they said, staring Caleb directly in the eyes. “He says that Herr Thelyss awaits you in the eastern tower.”

There was a seriousness underlying their words that made Caleb wince. He wanted to divulge himself to this person, hold them by the shoulders and tell them to snap out of it. Instead, he took a deep breath.

“Thank you, Suni.”

“He told me you disobeyed him,” Suni continued unprompted. There was a hint of malice in their voice that Caleb didn’t miss. “Told me you did something wrong.”

“Have you learned anything else from your master?” Caleb snapped. Suni was almost a decade younger than him - in any other case he would have been the one schooling  _ them _ . “He doesn't appreciate people sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Suni’s posture didn’t change. Instead, their eyebrows lowered into a scowl.

“I think I might know more about your master than you do,” they said darkly.

“Then you should know what will happen if you keep me from doing my duties, wouldn’t you?”

That struck something, and Suni took a step back. There was a flicker of anger in their eyes, and now more than ever Caleb was reminded of himself. Blindly loyal to a man who spoke for a cause he believed in so much he broke himself for it.

Suni didn’t say anything as they bowed woodenly and left.

********

Essek was sitting by a table, nervously levitating a spare decorative plant. Caleb stepped forward silently, locking the door behind him. He cleared his throat, and Essek looked up. Upon seeing Caleb he stood bolt upright, the plant falling and shattering on the table.

“Caleb!” he exclaimed. He seemed torn between running towards him and staying where he was, so Caleb closed the distance for him. Essek peered at him in the dim magical light around them, and his eyes widened as they caught the remnants of the painful magic that had dug into Caleb’s skin.

“C - Caleb, what - ”

“Essek,” he began. He was still a few feet away, allowing room for what he did not know. Some form of defense against whatever Essek’s reaction would be. “Essek, we need to talk.”

Essek’s face was so full of concern.

“I - I was told I would be meeting with Ludinus. Did he send you in his stead?”

Caleb bit his lip hard and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Essek,” he said quietly. “I was sent here to kill you.”

To the drow’s credit, he did not scream or retaliate. He simply took a step back, his hand finding unsteady purchase against the table behind him.

“W - what?” he whispered.

“The Assembly wants you dead, Essek. And Ikithon told me to do it.”

His words were catching in his throat, but he was determined to push through. Essek stared at him.

“...why?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“They know about your unfaithfulness to them, Essek. They know you’re unsatisfied with what they’re doing, know that you were planning on holding back for your own gains.”

Essek frowned.

“...they know that because you told them,” he said quietly, sounding hurt. His hands were moving almost imperceptibly upwards, to more freely cast a spell. In defense. Of  _ Caleb. _

“I’m not going to hurt you, Essek,” Caleb said, taking a small hesitant step forward. “I’m not one of them.”

Essek shook his head slowly, confusion creeping across his face.

“You’re an Assembly member,” he stressed. “You’ve been working for them, spying on me, so that they can better - ”

“I’m  _ not _ ,” Caleb said vehemently. “I never have been.”

“W - what are you talking about?”

“I didn’t infiltrate you, Essek.. I infiltrated  _ them _ .” Now that the words were coming, they couldn’t stop. “I needed information, I needed a reason for why they were so powerful, so I pretended. And then they told me to get close to you, because of the Beacon, and I had to learn more, so I - ”

“So you used me.”

The words brought Caleb’s to a halt, as he witnessed true hurt and pain flow freely into Essek’s features.

“N -  _ no _ , Essek,” Caleb attempted. “I didn’t - I wasn’t - ”

“That’s all this was for you, wasn’t it?” Essek sounded so  _ betrayed _ , and it hurt Caleb more than Ikithon’s spells ever could. “A way to spite the Assembly from the inside.”

“I want to  _ destroy _ them.” Caleb tried stepping closer, and Essek found himself pinned against the table behind him. “And I want you by my side.”

Essek stared at him, mouth slightly parted, the knuckles on his hands turning white, and in any other situation Caleb would have embraced him, kissed him senseless, but underneath it all was a level of  _ fear _ , something that Caleb couldn’t stand to see.

“Essek, you said so yourself that the Assembly is wrong. It is incapable of understanding the Beacon’s true power. With it in our hands, we could rebuild, we could end this war, we- ”

Essek let out a quiet laugh.

“You are assuming that I want that.”

Caleb stopped short, frozen to the spot. Essek did no such thing. He leaned forward, anger clouding into the hurt.

“You used me,” he repeated, spitting out the words with a vengeance. “You don’t know me. And obviously I knew  _ nothing _ about you. Was I your mark, then? Get close, trick me, so that you could seek your greater goals?”

“Essek, I care about you.”

“You cared about a portion of me. And I  _ fell _ for you.” He laughed wetly. “Was anything you said true?”

Caleb took a shaky breath.

“I could ask the same of you.”

Essek smiled sadly.

“You didn’t come here to kill me, did you? You came to try and convince me to run away with you. To leave behind everything I have so carefully made.”

Caleb felt tears pinprick his eyes at the ruthless way Essek said the words.

“I would not be where I am without the Assembly,” Essek stated, his voice wavering slightly. “And you want to take it away.”

“I thought I knew you, Herr Thelyss,” Caleb said desperately. “I thought you of all people would  _ understand _ .”

“What business does a traitor like you have to understand?” Essek’s voice was cold now. “You lied to me, Widogast.”

_ I never meant to hurt you _ .

It was what Caleb  _ wanted _ to say. But when he went to say the words, he found he couldn’t move. He looked at Essek, whose face was full of bitterness, then down to his hands, which had risen slightly, and were now glowing, as he finished casting the spell that held Caleb in place. It didn’t feel like a usual spell - it felt more guttural than that, as if his entire being was rooted in the gravity of a different source. He tried to fight against it and was met with nothing to pull against, to brace himself with.

“I’m sorry,” he heard Essek whisper under his breath, before he raised a finger to his lips and murmured out a message.

The door behind Caleb burst open almost instantaneously, as if it were simply waiting for Essek to activate it, and Essek sidestepped out of the way to make room for Suni. Their face was an impassive mask of grim determination, and Caleb had seen that same look before - in the mirror, a long time ago, before a fire tore his life into pieces.

_ Please, Essek _ he tried, as the student took advantage of his immobile state and began binding his hands with chains that he knew exactly what they would do to his magic.  _ Please, see reason. _

Essek simply stared at him from the protection of the other side of the table. His fingers gripped the edge of it, and though it was hard to see in the dim light, Caleb could have sworn he saw tears tracking down Essek’s cheeks.

“Master Ikithon would like to reward you for turning the traitor in.” Suni spoke as if Caleb wasn’t there. “He is glad you didn’t believe his lies of assassination.”

_ He’ll kill you the first chance he gets! _ Caleb tried to scream.  _ Please, Essek, bitte, bitte _ \- 

Suni finished chaining him, then nodded to Essek. The drow swallowed heavily, then flicked his fingers. The spell dropped, causing Caleb to collapse to the floor.

“Essek,  _ please! _ ” he cried as Suni rushed over to subdue him. “He’ll kill you, please believe me, you can’t - ”

But Essek had turned away. There was a pinch of something painful at the nape of Caleb’s neck, that soon flooded through his entire body, and suddenly blackness was overtaking him, drowning him.

The last thing he saw was Suni’s merciless face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just got a new job! and i'm starting on Thursday! so the next update might take a bit of time but don't worry. i have plans and i'm gonna see them through.


	13. Icarus

Essek couldn’t think properly.

He could barely breathe, as he watched this Suni levitate Caleb’s -  _ Widogast’s _ \- unconscious body off the ground and out the door. The door closed with a finality that echoed deep into his skull, and he found himself unable to concentrate on such a basic task as floating, so he collapsed into the chair behind him, shoulders slumped forward as he pressed his face into his hands.

So this was all it had been. In the end, he had been nothing but a pawn in a game of chess that he had lost spectacularly. Caleb -  _ Widogast, he was nothing more than his title, wasn’t his friend, wasn’t  _ \- he had been using him from the start, and the worst part was that Essek had seen it. He had been aware of his manipulations, and he had elected to ignore them, for what? For a paltry crush? For something as weak and sentimental as feelings, as emotions?

He distanced himself from society for a reason, and this was it. So that he wouldn’t become a victim of their games, their trickery. His title said it all - Shadowhand. What person with such a title would expose themselves to such raw and unbridled  _ feeling _ ?

And this was feeling. This heavy weight in his throat that he couldn’t quite swallow, that made it hard to breathe, it had a name, and it was betrayal. He never thought he’d live to see the business end of it. He was always one step ahead of it, always ready to utilize it against his enemies. By the Luxon, he had been ready to brace himself with it against his own country, his own queen. He was a traitor in his own right - why should he be surprised if Widogast was the same way?

_ Why didn’t he see? _

He didn’t realize Suni had returned until the student cleared their throat above him. Essek’s head shot up, and he tried to rearrange himself into a dignified position, one of poise, not distracted by stupid thoughts.

“Master Ikithon would like to thank you,” Suni repeated. “Widogast was a loose end, and he simply needed proof of his betrayal to take care of him.”

Essek barely registered their words. Far away, Caleb’s cries of warning slipped through his mind. How Suni spoke of loose ends as if Essek wasn’t one himself.

He wasn’t stupid. Oh, how he  _ had _ been. But from now on he would tread carefully. Slip back into his role as Shadowhand. Like he should have been doing the whole time.

“I’m grateful for Master Ikithon’s praise,” Essek managed woodenly. “Though forgive me if I state that I would prefer to hear it from the archmage himself.”

Suni looked slightly offended at that, but squared their shoulders anyway.

“Of course. Follow me.”

They turned without waiting for a response. Essek found himself struggling to stand, and his mind was teeming too much to bother floating, so he walked unsteadily after Suni.

They marched silently through the halls of the Assembly, and Essek had a chance to remark to himself how starkly barren the decorum was. It was as if the walls around him spoke of one purpose, and that was of asserting authority.

_ How quaint _ .

Ikithon’s office was built into a raised platform of a tower, enough of a difference to exert his dominance over others, but close enough to the ground to appeal humble. Essek scoffed at the display.

Ikithon was sitting behind an ornate desk when they entered, and immediately stood.

“Ah, Herr Thelyss,” he said. “I do hope you were not too bothered by that display out there.”

“I was,” Essek replied, stating the truth. “But I trust that you will take care of, what did Suni call it...loose ends?”

He watched Ikithon’s eyes closely for any tells, and he had to give the archmage credit - his face was a passive display of concern and, dare he try it, empathy, though that last one seemed foreign on the old man’s jaundiced face.

“Of course,” Ikithon replied smoothly. “And his lies about assassination attempts, now - ”

“In my line of work, everyone wants to kill me,” Essek interrupted sharply. “I no more believe his words to be false than I believe the Assembly hasn’t thought about killing me at least once.”

_ There _ was a flicker of uncertainty, replaced swiftly by a coy smile.

“But you have proven useful, Herr Thelyss,” he continued, as if Essek had asked after the weather. “You are a valuable ally to us, and Widogast was...a liability. One which we have rectified.”

Inexplicably, Essek felt comforted by the words, for they gave him a solid ground to gain his footing after such a long time dangling over the precipice that was his...infatuation.

“He knew about the Beacon,” Essek explained, offering information for safe passage. “He had silly ideas of using that knowledge to turn against the Assembly.”

“Did he now?” Ikithon turned to some papers on his desk. Unlike Essek’s own in his tower, this one was orderly and precise, with papers in neat stacks and a simple decorative star chart that spun on a spindle - the only personalization in the room. Essek wondered what its significance was, if any. “I would be eager to learn more.”

Essek knew when to hold onto a valuable hand. And besides, he desperately needed a respite from the Assembly walls that were seemingly closing in around him.

“If I may, Master Ikithon,” he said quietly. “I have had a taxing day. May I perhaps…”

Ikithon looked up from a sheet of parchment and frowned.

“Yes, of course. Suni?”

Essek hadn’t realized the student was still in the room. They stepped forward.

“Yes, master?”

“See to it that Herr Thelyss is given a warm bed and a proper meal.”

Suni nodded, and turned to the door, offering Essek a hand.

“We can talk tomorrow, Herr Thelyss. When you are better rested.”

Essek bowed gratefully.

“I thank you,” he said, watching Ikithon’s face once more. But if the archmage showed any sign of negative emotion, of plotting, of fiendish nature, he kept it hidden. And for once since Widogast walked into Essek’s life, he realized he was back on neutral ground. Back in his own element, a playing field that he could handle, for that was what he was built for.

He just wished it weren’t so lonely.

He let himself be guided to a guest quarters by Suni, who quickly nodded before turning to leave. Essek caught them by the arm.

“I realize I do not know your thoughts on this,” he prompted.

Suni looked up at his face, then down to the hand holding them in place.

“Does my opinion matter?” they replied. “I am acting in the best interests of the Empire.”

“And collaborating with a high ranking member of the Dynasty doesn’t conflict with that belief?”

Suni forcibly pulled their arm out of Essek’s grasp.

“Master Ikithon trusts you. Therefore so do I. I do not see how that is a point of confusion.”

They paused, peering up at Essek. Their curly mop of brown hair fell awkwardly to the side, and Essek realized this student was so young by human measures. He wondered briefly if Widogast - if  _ Caleb _ \- had been like this once.

Before he had shattered his loyalties. Before he had betrayed his people.

Before he had betrayed  _ him _ .

“Besides,” Suni said. “I would have thought you didn’t care much for the Dynasty, after what you did for the Empire.”

Essek didn’t have an answer to that, at least one that was concise. He didn’t understand why someone working under Ikithon wouldn’t comprehend the layered nuances of such exchanges of knowledge and power.

Then again, maybe that ignorance was by design.

“I consider myself loyal to a higher cause than petty borders,” he finally replied. “I suspect you will understand that soon enough.”

Suni cocked their head, then shrugged. They bowed low, then turned and wandered away, leaving Essek to close the door and shut himself inside.

The accommodations were simple yet sustainable, but somehow he found himself not giving a damn about any of it. Instead he slid to the floor itself, pulling his knees close to his chest and resting his forehead against them.

He didn’t know how to feel. He had been running on autopilot since the moment he had frozen Widogast in that spell. He supposed he should be grateful that he was back in his own space, surrounded by a world of politics and bureaucracy.

Then again, he had always hated frivolities.

And even now, despite his mind forcing himself into the present, into the realm of the here and now, images of Widogast’s face kept crashing through its walls.

The way his eyes had widened with shock when he had frozen him.

The way his face had looked so  _ hurt _ the moment Essek had turned on him.

The way his smile turned upwards at the possibility of another kiss.

The way the warmth of his body settled in next to his.

The way Essek’s heart leapt into his throat every time he would posit a question, every time he put the pieces together.

How research and partnership and knowledge were  _ nothing _ compared to the way Caleb had held Essek in his arms, like someone who had never loved anyone sweeter.

Essek found himself crying silently into his robes as the heartache of it all became too much, as the reality of it all swallowed him like an ocean. All the hurt and betrayal and utter loneliness.

He had loved a man more than anything, and he had torn him in two.

_ Isn’t that supposed to be your job? _ He thought bitterly to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> getting into tricky territory rn where my outline is slipping. bear with me as i work on "technical difficulties"


	14. No Light, No Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day! don't I spoil y'all :3

There was a burning house. There was always a burning house, always, but this time it wasn’t in Blumentahl, it wasn’t a small thatched roof home, it was a tower, an estate of magnificent proportions, and it was  _ burning _ . Flames licked the magically darkened sky above, painting it in hues of amber and ruby, sickly and horrible. He could hear the screams, but they were different, coming from someone else, someone new, someone he cared for. He tried to rush towards it, tried to save them, but he felt himself held back by something brutally tight binding him in place. He cried out for them, whoever they were, trying to reach them, but the flames kept growing, and growing, and the screams kept getting louder and louder until they were too much in his head, he couldn’t handle it, he needed relief, he needed to get away, he needed - 

Caleb awoke, gasping, in a dark room. Instinctively, he moved to get up, to shed the covers from his bed and shake the nightmare from his body, but he found himself caught by that same binding, and he looked up. In the dim light of the room, he saw that his wrists were shackled to the wall above him, himself awkwardly splayed out on his knees on cold stone. Immediately he moved to cast a spell, anything to free himself, but it was as if the chains themselves were absorbing his magic, sucking it dry until there was nothing left. He panicked, pulling uselessly at the unforgiving metal, until it grew pointless and he instead looked around for something,  _ anything _ , to help him, but there was nothing around him except stone flooring and cruel walls that reflected their previous inhabitants’ fate through desperate marks scratched into the stone, and foreboding dark crimson stains seeped into the cracks.

Caleb couldn’t breathe properly - it was too much like the sanatorium, too much like the jail cells he had found himself in, where all that waited for him was torment. He struggled against the chains and found himself crying out into the nothing that was the air around him.

_ Essek _ .

The drow’s face crossed his mind mid-panic, which only fueled it more. He was at Ikithon’s mercy, unaware of the mage’s true intentions, Caleb needed to get to him, needed to  _ save _ him - 

But every time he tried for a spell, even a simple cantrip, it fizzled in his fingertips, and he was growing sick with the fear and anxiety of it all.

So it certainly didn’t help when, across the small stone room, Ikithon materialized into existence.

Caleb froze, paralyzed with fear, as the mage approached him, frowning. He towered over Caleb, his hands folded almost gently behind his back, the picture of poise and elegance, but Caleb knew. He had studied under Ikithon for too long to mistake any of it as genuine. And the wave of fury and rage Ikithon was exuding, despite his efforts to contain it, were enough to push Caleb backwards, pressing himself as far against the wall behind him as he could, which wasn’t enough.

It could never be enough.

“I have to laud your efforts, Bren,” he said quietly. He didn’t need to raise his voice to convey his emotions plainly. “You certainly ran your little con much longer than I anticipated.”

He knelt down to Caleb’s level and tried to look him in the eye. Caleb averted his gaze, but his master kept talking regardless.

“In any other case I would congratulate you. Infiltrating a highly esteemed facet of the government, establishing your place amongst their ranks, lying low until the time was right, gathering information while you waited.” Ikithon let out a small chuckle, and the worst part was that Caleb knew it to be genuine. “You say you’ve left it all behind, but I know a Volstrucker when I see one.”

“Not for you,” Caleb growled. They were both surprised that he was speaking, but something about his situation made staying silent a non-starter. If he was going to be at Ikithon’s mercy, so be it. At least he could state his own piece of mind.

“I’m sorry?” Ikithon said with a raised eyebrow.

“I said not for  _ you _ .” Caleb tried to readjust his awkward position to better make himself level with this man. “I may use their tactics, know their ways. You certainly taught me that. But I didn’t do it for  _ you _ .”

“Why did you do it, then?” Ikithon asked, smooth voice masking a hungry curiosity fueled by frustration.

Caleb laughed a sad empty laugh.

“Isn’t it obvious? To take down the Assembly.”

“A bold goal.”

“A noble one,” Caleb snapped back.

“Such a shame it didn’t pan out,” Ikithon said with a derivative smile, reminding Caleb painfully of his situation. Trapped in a prison gods knew where, his cover blown, with his one potential ally turned against him.

“He won’t believe you forever,” he tried, attempting to fight back in whatever way he could. “He’ll see through your lies. He’s smart.”

“Yet not smart enough to realize your true intentions.” Caleb winced. “Besides, Herr Thelyss will soon not be an issue anymore.”

Caleb knew the words were coming, but the blow still fell hard. Yet amongst all the bile of hurt and regret and panic churning his stomach, a single emotion rose to the top: spite.

“You’re a fool,” he stated with a vengeance. “You think that sitting where you are, a spider in its web, that will make you powerful. That you’ll succeed on lies and deceit all your life.”

He was facing Ikithon now, eyes locked onto his, and he could see the veins bulging, the anger swelling up through the careful composure.

“It has gotten me this far,” Ikithon said steadily, but Caleb could hear the slight waver to his voice at the prospect of one of his disciples turning against him so brashly, and he  _ latched _ onto it.

“You’re afraid,” he accused. “Afraid that one day, a thread will break, and it will all unravel, and you’ll be left with  _ nothing _ .”

“That won’t happen.” His master’s voice was darker now, but Caleb didn’t care.

“What would happen if I got a hold of Suni? If I talked to them the way you never talked to any of us, and I convince them that you are hurting the Empire, not helping it?”

“You - ” he began, but Caleb wasn’t having any of it. He was bitter, and for once in his pathetic life he had a chance to speak up.

“Because that’s all you are, and all you ever will be, Trent. A fool with no love around you, fated to cling desperately to the hope that no one else will defect like I did because if they did you’d be left with  _ nothing _ .”

And before he lost the nerve, before the fear that had been clawing at the back of his throat could finally shut him down, he leaned forward as far as he could and spat in Ikithon’s face.

For a moment, he watched his old master reach a wrinkled finger up to his face and wipe away the saliva that had collected on his eye. His face morphed from surprise, to confusion, to disgust, and it finally swelled into open and unadulterated rage.

Caleb didn’t quite manage to see that last emotion, for Ikithon had already reached out a hand, digging it into Caleb’s neck, and all that followed next was pure, white-hot  _ agony _ .

If the spell Ikithon had used not a day ago had been classified as pain, it was a small insect compared to this  _ swarm _ . All of his vital organs were rendered mute, frozen and useless, as he tried to breathe but couldn’t, tried to feel his heartbeat but  _ couldn’t _ , and it felt like something was tearing at his very soul, trying to rip it away from him, and he couldn’t even fight back, just tried and tried to get away, to escape, to find some semblance of life as the necrotic energy crept further and further, digging its way into his very essence, until there was nothing left of himself anymore, just a speck of existence, and even that was being torn asunder, he couldn’t, he  _ couldn’t _ \- 

He didn’t quite realize that it had ended, only that he could breathe again, his heartbeat a blessed sound in his ears, as he lost all ability to form structure with his body and collapsed pathetically to the ground, held up ruthlessly by his chained wrists. He was gasping desperately, trying to fill his lungs with sweet, sweet air, when Ikithon’s hand grabbed his chin and forced Caleb to look up at him.

“You listen to me, Bren,” he hissed, all semblance of restraint out the window. “I am going to go kill your lover. Then I will find your friends, and torture them. And then, if there’s anything left of you after that, I will break it down and build it up into somebody you won’t even recognize. I did it before. I can do it again.”

He shoved Caleb’s head away so hard it knocked against the stone wall. Caleb didn’t register the soft pain. He just lay there, staring at the floor, hoping that maybe this once, his prayers for a sudden end to it all would manifest themselves.

Ikithon said nothing more as he stood up and brushed himself off. Almost out of spite, he kicked Caleb.

The wizard wasn’t aware of his master’s exit. Only that, the next time he opened his eyes, he was alone.

He let out a sob.

*************

His dreams were empty and hollow, nothing but an amber sky, licked with flames, all around him. There were no screams. No smoke. No regret. Just an endless fire, stretching out beyond eternity.

_ Cayyy-leb! _

Was it Jester’s voice? Or was it just another sound in the hazy wave of memories that he was existing in?

_ You didn’t respond to Nott, and now we’re super scared - where are you? Did something happen? Is Essek okay? Oh, please respond. We’re worried. _

He didn’t realize he was awake until the message progressed from a dull whisper to a loud sound in his head. He didn’t want to hope, didn’t want to dream, but he had to, he - 

“Jester?” he attempted. “Jester, I’m caught, I don’t know where I am, he has Essek, he’s going to - ”

But even before he reached the word limit, he knew it wasn’t going through. Whatever magic was in his chains, it was sapping even his ability to respond. He growled in frustration, trying to tear at the manacles around his wrists, but they wouldn’t budge.

Jester’s sweet voice entered his head once more.

_ Okay, the fact that you didn’t respond makes us  _ _ super _ _ worried, so we’re coming after you. Beau found something about the prisons, so just wait! _

He wanted to reply, so desperately, but her words alone were enough to inspire hope in him. They were coming after him? Beau knew where he was?

The bitterness in him grew tenfold. They couldn’t find this place. It was nowhere, protected by magical enchantments, Ikithon was probably the only one who could get inside.

But this was the Mighty Nein. He had named them. He was a part of them. He had been with them when they rescued their friends, when they found each other again.

_ Gods _ he missed them.

He closed his eyes, pulled himself into a ball, and prayed.

**********

He felt them before he saw them.

He may have been cut off from his own magic, but he was well aware of it around him, so when he felt it disturbed, it felt visceral and ugly, like someone was tearing a hole in something that wasn’t meant to be torn apart.

A portal of some sort opened up in the corner, pale milky white and barely there, shimmering in and out of existence, but it was there, it was real.

The first person through was Jester. She looked exhausted and properly battle-worn, but the moment she saw Caleb her face lit up.

“Oh, Cay-leb, I’m so happy - hang on, I wanna come over there, but I’m holding this - hold on, hold on - ”

She seemed to be gripping the edges of the portal, trying to keep it open, as if she were struggling against the wards of magic around her that were forcing her out.

“Nott, Nott, come on!” she cried into the portal.

The goblin stumbled through, crashing into the wall. There were a few crossbow bolts sticking out of her arm, and her own weapon was ready as she got up and immediately swept the room for enemies, before her eyes fell on Caleb. She dropped the crossbow in shock.

“C - Caleb?” she whispered.

Caleb couldn’t speak. He was just staring at her like she didn’t exist, because this had to be a memory, or a trick, or an illusion, or - 

She crossed the room in two steps, throwing herself around his middle in a hug that felt very much real, and warm, and comforting, and Nott’s eyes widened as she looked up at him, her grin fading slightly.

“Oh, Caleb, don’t cry, please…” she pleaded as she wiped away a few tears. He gulped down a sob.

“I am glad to see you,  _ mein freund, _ ” he managed.

“Nott, come on, I can’t hold this forever!” Jester called over.

“Right, right!”

She focused her hands on the chains above her and began examining the lock. She fiddled with it for a few seconds, which turned into a minute, and she cursed a few words under her breath.

“C - can you...?” Caleb asked, but she shushed him with a wave of her hand.

“Nott....” Jester urged her. The tiefling’s hands were shaking.

“Almost…”

There was an audible  _ click _ that sounded like a beautiful bird song in Caleb’s head, and suddenly there was a rush of magic flowing back to him so quickly that he had to catch his breath. He felt slightly nauseous.

“Come on, let’s go!” Jester called over.

Nott, helped Caleb to his shaky feet and hugged his leg.

“W - what are you - ” he began, but Nott just pushed him forwards.

“No time, let’s just go! We’ll explain everything later.”

Caleb stumbled forward. Jester gave him the best side hug she could manage, before they all climbed through the portal together.

They emerged in dilapidated prison quarters, where the guards would sleep.  _ Would _ being the operative term, as what guards remained in view were all dead on the floor in varying degrees of discomfort. In front of Caleb, the rest of the Nein were grinning at him.

Jester hugged him first, squealing in delight, but all he had eyes for was the clear entrance to the quarters, which exited further into the Assembly halls.

Beau noticed his gaze.

“I suppose you wanna skip the story and go save your friend?” she asked, reading his mind.

He nodded.

“Caleb, is he even…” Nott said softly. “I mean, we overheard a bit about what happened. He  _ betrayed _ you, didn’t he?”

“ _ Ja _ .” Caleb didn’t care. “So?”

“So, is he worth saving?”

The brief memory flash of anger in Essek’s eyes was giving way to more and more scenes of comfort, of affection, of kissing and a night together and an embrace that felt so beautiful…

“Yes,” Caleb answered firmly.

Nott nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to reiterate, we're getting into tricky territory. i might have to take a bit of time amongst my new job to sit down and think thru how i want this fic to end, so have patience, i beg of you. this story will finish, damnit.


	15. Next to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back! AND i'm currently working on the next chapter so expect that reaaaalll soon.  
> sort of an interval chapter today - I needed to clarify some logistics before the next storm of this rolls in.

Essek didn’t sleep much, if at all. His thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to redirect them, kept drifting back towards Caleb. He should be thinking on how best to handle the tension between him and Ikithon. How best to play his cards. But for every cold and calculating thought in his head, there was one of red hair and a freckled smile chasing it relentlessly.

The knock at the door surprised him, as did the sunlight that was creeping in through the shaded window. He closed his eyes tightly before letting them fall open with a sigh. He floated upright, managing to fumble his fingers into the right shape for the quick cantrip that cleansed his person of the tear marks and other dirty markers of his restless night.

He opened the door to find Suni, dressed now in more stately looking mage robes. He realized with a start that they had the emblem of the Cerberus Assembly emblazoned on the breast.

“You’ve been promoted, I see,” he observed.

“Master Ikithon makes quick work getting rid of empty spaces,” they explained. Essek expected them to be smiling broadly, proud of their accomplishment, but they simply looked him evenly in the eye and held their emotion back as well as their great master.

_ He teaches his students well. _

“I trust your master has need of me?” he asked.

“Of a kind. He’s made...arrangements.”

“Arrangements,” Essek repeated. Almost on instinct, he began readying a spell behind his back.

“He’s invited you to a dinner party.”

The words shocked Essek into dropping the spell entirely. He shifted his stance forward, cautiously interested in whatever the hell Ikithon was planning.

“I’m sorry?”

“Master Ikithon initially entrusted former Mage Widogast to you in order to secure a better pathway towards the end of this conflict.”

Neither he nor Suni believed those words for a second, and Essek could tell. But going along with even obvious fronts was part of Essek’s job, so he simply nodded for Suni to continue.

“He anticipated a change may come, and initiated a contingency plan. He has put together a small gathering of Kryn nobles and Dwendalian emissaries as an act of good faith, to further spread the peace that you were developing before...well.”

Essek sighed. Wherever Ikithon’s true motivations lay, they would be found at this party. He needed to know his own stance in the eyes of the archmage, and he needed to know what he was planning.

Or did he?  _ Does it even matter? _ he asked himself harshly.  _ Your place in this hasn’t changed - you’ll get your information, they’ll have their power fantasies realized, and nothing will change. _

He hated that he had thought, if only for the briefest span of a night, that things  _ would _ . That somehow, he had found something else to live for besides his endless search for knowledge.

_ You were a fool. _

Suni was still standing there, expecting a response.

"Alright," Essek said softly. "Thank you - I suppose your formal title isn't 'Suni' is it?"

At this, the tiniest hint of a smirk emerged in the corner of their mouth.

"No. Not anymore. You can refer to me as Mage Deona."

"Understood. Mage Deona."

They nodded.

"I will pass on your acceptance to Master Ikithon. The party begins tomorrow night at sundown. You are more than welcome to rest here in the meantime."

"Am I free to use the library?" Essek asked selfishly. He was desperate for a way to distract himself from his turbulent thoughts.

Suni paused and tilted their head to the side, thinking.

"I do not see why not," they answered. "Be sure to return any books you remove. The Assembly is not keen on unregulated research."

A brief flash of an image came to Essek's mind, of a young mage with red hair and a freckled nose, illuminated by candlelight and bent over a book illegally squirreled away from the library, fervently copying spells and murmuring incantations under his breath. How desperate for knowledge he must be. How incensed by the very idea of finding something new was he that he would defy his own authority, risking more than just a scolding in the morning.

_ You didn't know him. _ The thought was persistent, and angry.  _ That version of him is a lie. _

But was it a lie, to believe Caleb was capable of wondrous things? Was it a lie to envision him as a beautifully gifted wunderkind?

Suni cleared their throat, bringing Essek kicking and screaming back into the present.

"The library is open until nine o'clock this evening," they said. "I will see you at the party tomorrow night."

Essek mumbled a small goodbye, and closed the door.

_ He used you _ he reminded himself.  _ He used you, and hurt you, and betrayed you. It is of no matter who he once was, or may have been. _

The words did not help his aching heart.

**********

“The route we took in was super quiet, save for these guys,” Beau explained, kicking a guard’s corpse. “There’s a gathering going on down by the main hall.”

Caleb blinked at her. He realized with a start that the entire time he had been in his isolated prison, he had lost his keen sense of time.

“How long was I gone?” he asked.

“I dunno, it took us about two days to find you, so - hey, wait a minute!”

Beau shot out her hand, grabbing Caleb’s arm as he was already midway to the door. Panic had settled into his mind, making it hard to focus.

“What’s going on, man?” Beau demanded.

“Two days is too long,” Caleb muttered. “Two days means they could have hurt him, could have - ”

“Slow down,” Fjord said, stepping forward placatingly. “They haven’t hurt him.”

“How do you - ”

“I scryed on him, dummy,” Jester offered. “He seems a bit lonely, but he was fine last I saw him.”

The fear in Caleb’s chest wasn’t going away.

“W - what is this gathering?” he asked, desperately trying to cling to whatever information he knew.

“We think it’s some sort of peace talk,” Fjord said.

“Yeah, we saw a bunch of people going in, in fancy outfits. They looked important, y’know?” Jester added. “All higher ups and what-not.”

Beau locked eyes with Caleb.

“You need into that party, don’t you?”

He nodded weakly.

“I - I can disguise myself...I just - ”

He hesitated, looking around at his family. The one who had risked it all to save him. He couldn’t put them back in danger, not for something as selfish as him saving Essek.

Nott put a hand on his leg.

“Tell us what you need, Caleb.”

Caleb bit his lip and closed his eyes.

“They’ll find this soon enough,” he said, gesturing to the dead bodies around them. “You need to be far away from here when that happens.”

“You’re talking like you want us to leave you,” Beau said, the gravity of the situation clear in her voice.

“I’m talking like I want to  _ save _ you,” Caleb stressed. “Ikithon i - is  _ powerful _ , and I do not think that - ”

“Then don’t think.” Beau cracked her knuckles. “Point us where the fight’s gonna get the nastiest, Caleb.”

“We’re not running away,” Jester said, crossing her arms and pouting.

“We’re stubborn, remember?” Nott reminded him.

Caleb ran a hand down his face, sighing in frustration.

“Alright.  _ Ja. _ W - we have to do this carefully.” He balled up his fists and squared his shoulders. “Let me in, by myself. Let me  _ talk _ with Essek. I can get him on our side. And then when all hell breaks loose - ”

“You got it.”

It was a chorus of voices behind the reply, and Caleb couldn’t help but smile.


	16. Treacherous

In the back of Caleb’s mind, he wondered if it were even possible to deceive Ikithon with such a simple thing as a disguise spell. But a larger part of him, running on the fumes of spite and trickery, knew that it would work, because Ikithon’s own pride in himself would cause the mage to be blind. He had thought he’d won. He had dispatched Caleb entirely. He had his master plan, and Caleb infiltrating this party was not part of it, and Caleb planned to exploit that fact to its fullest extent.

He decided on an unassuming elf form, wearing Empire garb that blended in perfectly with the surrounding guests, of whom there were not as many as the gala in which he had first met Essek, but their numbers were still substantial. Enough to pretend that he was simply one of them, with no ulterior motive, believing that he was a part of a genuine attempt at diplomacy.

The party was not hard to find - the noise of the crowd and the soft strings of a violin soloist carried down the stark halls, and soon he found himself slipping by a pair of double doors flanked by two young Academy students, who were obviously very excited to even be part of such an event. They nodded their heads towards Caleb as he passed, and he took the moment to wonder if these, too, were up and coming pupils of Ikithon. If his old master truly was moving that quickly with the Volstrucker program, if he was truly eager to replace what he had lost.

He needed to stop this. The Assembly, the program, Ikithon, all of it. It needed to be put in the ground and buried.

And that started with Essek.

The throngs of guests near the entry crowded his vision as he let himself be shuffled inside. He took in the room - the last minute nature of the party was almost impossible to see through the decorations of neutral colors and a colorful arrangement of food on the buffet table. He had to give Ikithon credit - when the archmage needed a facade, he created them  _ well _ .

Caleb kept to the side walls, avoiding interacting with any guests, who were ignoring him in kind, in favor of speaking amongst themselves. He caught small bursts of conversation regarding the uncertain mood of the party, the bureaucracy of politics, and whether the punch had been adequately spiked enough to provide levity from the stressful surroundings. Overall, things seemed tense, as if the whole war could shift gears if someone from Xhorhas spilled a drink on an Empire ambassador's cloak.

There was no sign of Ikithon, a fact Caleb was thankful for. And as he turned past a couple in the midst of hushed words, he caught sight of Essek.

The drow was floating by the buffet, a wine goblet in his delicate hand. He had returned his ornate mantle to his shoulders, robes sleek and clean. He looked elegant, like the man Caleb had met at a gala barely a month ago.

He also looked horribly and  _ intensely _ lonely.

Caleb’s eyes traveled downwards, zeroing in on the wine Essek held. It didn’t look touched, still full, and as Essek played with it between his fingers, Caleb knew suddenly what would happen if the drow’s lips touched that liquid. A body would hit the floor. Panic, accusations, and a conclusion Ikithon would paint himself: the Dynasty’s only diplomat, dead by a Xhorhasian poison. What better way to continue a war than for one side to eliminate its sole peacemaker?

He closed the distance between him and Essek in two strides, intending what, he did not know. All that mattered was getting that drink out of his hands, get him away from Ikithon, away from Rexxentrum entirely. They could run away back to Essek’s estate, or beyond it, maybe - 

“Oh. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Essek was speaking, looking dully at Caleb and extending his free hand. Caleb, panicking, took it, bowing slightly.

“Rory Carter,” he said quickly, trying his best to bite down his Zemnian accent. “I’m simply a bystander in these sorts of affairs.”

“I see. Essek Thelyss.” Essek looked confused. “I wasn’t sure if - ”

“Would you care for a dance?” Caleb rushed out, gesturing to the abysmally small floor in front of them, hemmed in by guests on all sides, but the violin was still going, and there were blessedly a few other couples swaying along.

“Oh. Well, I - ”

Caleb was already taking his hand, guiding him away from the table, but the drink had still not left his hand. They fell into an awkward pattern that was nowhere near a waltz, only a sorry attempt at one, with Caleb’s hand on Essek’s shoulder and his other wrapped gently around Essek’s spare wrist. He wanted to squeeze tight until his fingers gave out and dropped the poison, but he had to play this one out through words and not force.

He had to make Essek  _ see _ .

“Master Ikithon certainly has an affinity towards his homeland, doesn’t he?” Essek stated as he moved alongside Caleb. The wizard noticed starkly that Essek had refused to touch down for the pseudo-dance - he was still floating.

“I’m sorry?” Caleb said, confused.

“Your accent.” There was a flash of a smile, a vision of a memory playing on his face, that vanished as quickly as it began. “I appreciate the effort to hide it, but let’s be honest: we’re in the company of many a deceiver tonight.”

_ You have no idea. _

“It seems I have been found out,” Caleb said softly, bowing his head in mock shame.

“What business do you have with me, Sir Carter?” Essek prompted, a bit too aggressively.

“I come as an emissary of someone close to me,” Caleb attempted. “They told me you are the one responsible for the peace that brings this room together tonight.”

Essek’s face fell, and he looked sad.

“I suppose I am. I wish to end this war as much as any other man in this world.”

“I doubt every other man in this world would agree with you.”

Essek’s eyes flicked up at Caleb’s.

“What do you know of the world, Sir Carter?” he asked bitterly.

“I know of its cruelties, Herr Thelyss. I know that in this city we tread on, right now, there are men who would fight to keep this world in the darkness of war.”

He locked eyes with Essek, trying desperately to gauge the truth.

“Are you one of them, Herr Thelyss?”

Essek’s eyes flared in anger for a moment, before settling into a surprising expression of sorrow, which he quickly covered up with a grim expression of neutrality. What Caleb expected from the drow, it was not this.

“It is not every day one gets asked such a blunt question, Sir Carter.”

“It is not every day one is in the company of the Shadowhand,” Caleb countered. “You do not have to answer me. I suppose I will find out in the future.”

“Forgive me if I can return your frankness in kind - ”

“Of course.”

“You are from the Empire. Born and bred in it, if your accent is anything to go by. And yet you ask an associate of the Bright Queen to dance.”

Essek said the word ‘dance’ as if it meant something else entirely. He still hadn’t relinquished his wine.

“Maybe I do wish this war to continue,” Caleb said quietly. “Maybe I don’t. Or maybe I just found myself drawn to someone like you, so  _ important _ in this world of politics when in reality, you might simply be looking for something else.”

“What do you know of me?” Essek snapped. “I am as much of a stranger to you than you are to me.”

“You are a talented mage, yes?”

Essek hesitated, but nodded.

“I once knew a boy in Blumenthal, who was a master of his craft at such a young age.”

Essek seemed more attentive now.

“He grew into his powers, and each time he thought he’d reached a limit, he’d push past it. Eventually, the Soltryce Academy took him in. And, when that wasn’t enough, he found a special tutor.”

As he spoke, his fingers crept their way up Essek’s hand, trying to wrap themselves around the wine glass.

“I believe you know of Master Trent Ikithon?” he queried.

“I - yes. Yes, I do.”

“He is a powerful man. So powerful that he took this boy, barely into manhood, and taught him things. Things he wasn’t meant to know. And he made him do things, things he wasn’t supposed to do.”

He was squeezing Essek’s shoulder, now, the violin roaring in time with his heartbeat in his ears.

“Trent Ikithon is responsible for atrocities, Herr Thelyss. He took a boy and turned him into a monster. And he’ll do the same to you.”

Almost imperceptibly, Essek lowered his form, and Caleb realized his feet had settled to the floor. The song was still going, but they weren’t moving anymore, as Essek peered piercingly into his eyes.

“ _ Caleb _ ?” he whispered.

Caleb’s hand found the stem of the wine glass and gripped it tightly, Essek’s cool skin smooth beneath his own.

“ _ Please, _ Essek,” he begged. “I found my way. So can you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm breaking this chapter in two, cuz next it's Essek's POV and it felt awkward writing them both in one chapter.


	17. Malleable Beings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gods this was a helluva chapter to write. i deffo enjoyed writing Essek's POV again.

Essek stared into the brown eyes of this nondescript elf in front of him, knowing full well the brilliant blue that was hidden just beneath the surface. They peered into his soul with the aura of someone who knew him, who  _ wanted _ him. But that was impossible, because Caleb did not want him. How could he? They had deceived each other from the start, and they weren’t meant to be together, anymore than Caleb was meant to be at this party, surrounded by enemies on all sides, dancing with him as if his old master wasn’t waiting with a fury to smite him down, and take Essek with him for fraternizing with the enemy.

But there was something in the way Caleb had spoken, the things he had said. Speaking of a boy who was warped into committing atrocities because someone with a lust for power had made him so.

They had sought that power too, himself and Caleb. But they had never wanted pain or suffering.

Correction:  _ Caleb _ had never wanted that. Essek was fooling himself if he thought his hands were clean of the blood of the thousands that had died in the war that he and the Assembly had started. He had been so selfish, and maybe it was this moment, of his former lover sneaking into a high-stakes party just to talk with him, that would fully shatter Essek’s resolve.

He clutched at the wine glass, now itching for a way to quell his nerves, to get  _ away _ from it all, and made to bring it to his lips.

Caleb’s hand kept his own pressed firmly down. The jolt of movement made the liquid slosh slightly in the glass, spilling a few droplets onto Essek’s thankfully dark robes. He looked sharply up at Caleb, who was staring deeper into his eyes than ever, urgency and desperation shining through the illusion.

“You are a very valuable player on the board tonight,  _ mein freund _ ,” he said, and though Caleb was utilizing every trick in his Assembly trained book to stay composed, Essek could still hear the almost imperceptible waver in his voice. He looked down at the wine, then up at Caleb. His hand began to shake and a wave of nausea hit him in full force as he put the pieces together and realized what, exactly, he held in his hand, and how close he had come to consuming it.

“Keep dancing,” Caleb ordered, shifting his hands to grip Essek tighter and force him to move his feet. “We are in terrible danger.”

“Why are you here?” Essek hissed into Caleb’s ear as the waltz picked up its tempo. “What do you gain from saving me?”

“Does anything need to be  _ gained _ ?” Caleb asked, sounding hurt.

“It’s who we both are, Caleb. Spies, double agents, moles. We burrow our way into the right places and feed off of what we learn there, with no regard to how it harms others.”

“I know you, Essek.”

“Do you?” Essek snapped.

“I do,” Caleb pressed. “And I don’t believe those words for a second.”

Essek’s swift tongue caught in his throat, because for once, he didn’t think Caleb understood.

“You betrayed me - the  _ Assembly _ \- because you had noble goals.” He stared at the floor. “I betrayed my own country for the sake of what? A sign and the scraps of truth of what they believe? I am as despicable as the man you formally called ‘master’, Caleb. And if you wish to tear down the Assembly, you’ll have to tear me down with it.”

It was a hollow threat, but a threat nonetheless, and Caleb’s elf form flinched at the words.

“Trent Ikithon planned to murder you tonight,” he reminded Essek.

“So I ask again, Mage Widogast. What do you gain from saving me?” Essek stressed each and every word, desperate for some explanation, some way of justifying Caleb’s actions, for why else would he show up and save him? He had used him, he had betrayed him, he knew who he  _ was _ , he - 

In the smallest of movements, Caleb leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

For one blissful moment, the entirety of the party around him faded out, leaving nothing in his senses besides the softly damp touch of Caleb’s lips and his own thundering heartbeat in his ears.

When Caleb drew away, Essek found himself crying.

“We’re both damned, Essek,” Caleb whispered, the party still a faint hum in the background, nothing compared to Caleb’s soft voice. “We’re both despicable. And neither one of us will gain anything from the other’s continued existence, save  _ that _ .”

He drifted a finger across Essek’s lips, and Essek felt a warmth he had thought abandoned lifetimes ago grow in his chest.

“Caleb, I - ”

“I’m sorry, Essek,” the wizard interrupted. “Truly, I am. I never meant to hurt you, to use you. At least, not after I grew to know you. There reached a point where I was in too deep, and I - ”

Essek silenced him with another kiss, this one softer and ever so brief. The tears on his cheeks stung salty sweet on his tongue.

“Forgive me,” he breathed against Caleb’s cheek.

The wizard halted the dance, freezing on the spot, and Essek drew back in time to see a panicked expression cross his disguised face. He followed his eyeline across the room, and there, leaning against a pillar, was Ikithon.

“Essek, do you trust me?” Caleb murmured, squeezing Essek’s hand.

“Yes.” Now, he knew. Now, he could see.

“Then take that wine glass and blackmail him.”

He was gone before Essek could respond, melted away into the crowd. He watched Ikithon’s sharp eyes try and follow Caleb, but Essek stepped into his view before he had a chance to lock onto the retreating elf.

“Master Ikithon,” he said smoothly.

“Good evening, Herr Thelyss.” Ikithon bowed his head politely. “I hope the event is to your satisfaction?”

“It is.” Essek clutched at the wine in his hands.

“It seems you have quite the admirer,” Ikithon stated, tone even and poised, but Essek could see a flicker of something deeper and more sinister in his eyes. “I am glad to see you have not been hindered by Widogast’s untoward behavior.”

Essek refused to let Ikithon ruminate on the situation, for fear of rousing suspicion of Caleb’s presence. Besides - he had more pressing matters to attend to.

“The drink selection tonight is wonderful,” he remarked.

It gained no more than a small raised eyebrow from the archmage.

“Oh? I hadn’t noticed. I’ll be sure to send your compliments to the cooking staff.”

Essek swallowed, trying to gather the nerve. In any other situation, confronting a traitor in court would have been as simple as casting a cantrip, but somehow here, now, with Caleb’s safety at stake, it was harder than fighting a dragon. But he knew he had to persevere.

“It’s funny,” he continued. “The punch was delightful, but the wine...it had a slightly sour taste to it.”

Ikithon simply hummed in response, clearly not interested in making such small talk.

“In fact, I could have sworn that it seemed like it was just  _ my _ glass that smelled foul.” He held it up to examine it against the lights above. “Almost as if something had gotten into it.”

_ Now _ he had Ikithon’s attention, as the archmage stood up straighter, brow narrowing.

“I’m just very glad I didn’t drink it,” Essek concluded, looking Ikithon dead in the eyes. “It would have worked poorly for my health, don’t you agree?”

“What do you want, Herr Thelyss?” Ikithon asked coolly.

“I want to know why I was lied to.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you - ”

“It certainly is funny how many people you get to know in such short terms,” Essek pressed on. “And how quickly a message can get sent out.”

He twirled the wine glass between his fingers, and now he was fully enjoying this, being able to manipulate the situation on his own terrain. Ikithon’s slowly reddening skin was certainly a bonus.

“I wonder how much an archmage of the Cerberus Assembly would do to ensure their own survival. Would they pay handsomely? Step down entirely?”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, Thelyss.”  _ There _ was the rage.

“Am I?”

“You are just as guilty a party as I. And you know it. The Assembly has had you locked in your self-made bonds ever since you gave us what we wanted. You cannot touch me, without you falling as well.”

Essek took a deep breath, letting the violin music waft over him, remembering a dance not a minute ago, but weeks ago, where he had met a wizard who showed him how to exist beyond his selfish prison.

“Then let me fall,” Essek replied, confidence behind his every word. “For if it means taking you and every member of that corrupted Assembly down with me, I’d be more than happy to die for that cause.”

Ikithon stared at him, a vein twitching near the corner of his eye. The man was a few inches taller than Essek, and to complete the effect, he floated just high enough to be above his sight line.

For a brilliant fleeting moment, Essek existed in a world where you could say ‘no’ to Master Trent Ikithon and get away with it.

Then Ikithon flicked a finger, as if swatting at a bug, and behind Essek a giant ball of fire erupted from the middle of the hall.

The terror was immediate. Those who had not been struck by the blast began panicking, screams taking the chamber as people ran frightfully for the exits. There were too many who were on fire, crying out in agony, and still more who were blackened husks lying on the floor. In his frantic state, Essek could barely glimpse the image of Suni, hastily disguised as a drow in Kryn Dynasty garb, but their mop of brown hair was not completely covered. They had their hands outstretched, purposefully positioned so that everyone could see the Xhorhasian drow who had just murdered dozens at a peace summit.

Essek whirled, trying to catch Ikithon, but the archmage had long since vanished in the chaos. The screams were everywhere, panic encasing the hall like ice, and now the doors were locked. People were pounding on them, trying to escape, but Essek knew they wouldn’t be able to leave until Ikithon and the Assembly had properly orchestrated their response.

The archmages of the Cerberus Assembly, loyal magic users to the Empire, would not stand for such travesty. They would strike back at the Dynasty with full force. War would beget violence would beget soldiers would beget recruitment would beget power, over and over again as Xhorhas burned and Ikithon smiled.

The drow lowered their hands and ducked into the crowd, disappearing from view.

_ Caleb _ .

Essek searched around, trying desperately to find the wizard in all the chaos. He looked for the dark hair of the elf, but what he found instead was the red beautiful mane of his lover as he stumbled forward, clearly shaken by the display of charred corpses in the center of the room, but he held his own as he grasped Essek’s hand and pulled him through the crowd towards the corner, where Suni was pressed against the wall, drow form gone, looking panicked. Caleb extended his hands towards Suni.

“Mage Deona! I know you do not want this!”

The mage scowled at Caleb.

“Treacherous scum!” they spat at him. “You do nothing for the Empire!”

Essek rushed forward, spell already prepped, but Caleb held him back. He kept his eyes on Suni.

“Suni, this is not who you are.”

“You don’t know me!”

“I know enough. I know that all you want is to impress your teachers, to serve your country. I know all you craved since you first could cast a spell was to be more powerful.”

Suni looked crazed, eyes wide and looking like a cornered wild animal.

“And I know that you think you can do anything that is needed of you.”

“I  _ can _ !” they hissed. “I  _ did _ !”

They gestured to the cacophony of terror that was behind them, but all Caleb had eyes for was Suni.

“Suni, you do not want this, anymore than you wanted to hurt them.”

Essek didn’t know who Caleb was talking about, but clearly Suni did, as their face crumpled into anguish.

“I had to!” they screamed. “I’m loyal to the Empire, and they weren’t!”

Essek could see the full body wince that Caleb suffered as the wizard took another step forward.

“Suni, I know you, because I have  _ been _ you. And I am  _ pleading _ with you - do not become who I was. Do not lose yourself.”

Suni began crying. Their hands were shaking, and they hadn’t prepared any sort of spell.

“I - Ikithon...he will...will - ”

“In twenty-four hours, Ikithon will no longer be weighing you down,” Caleb promised. “Do yourself the favor and save your soul before he takes it away with him.”

Essek found the sounds behind him were tuning out in favor of watching this show of pupil meeting pupil unfold. Never had he had more fondness for Caleb than this very moment.

“ _ Bitte,  _ Suni.” Caleb closed the gap between him and the mage, who was lowering their hands. “Don’t do this.”

They clasped their hands over their mouth and let out a sob. They shook uncontrollably as Caleb embraced them, kissing the top of their head.

“I - I killed - ” Suni attempted, but Caleb shushed them.

“I know. But he made you do it. And you never will again.”

Essek realized with nausea boiling in his gut that Suni was not speaking of the corpses lying behind him.

The sounds of the panic crashed back down into reality as the doors burst inwards, carrying with them a ragtag group of colorful people who barreled inside, leaving the rest of the guests to funnel their way out of the hall and to safety. The group drew level with Essek, looking ready for a fight, but what they found instead was a scared young mage being held by a wizard.

“Ummm, Caleb?” a human woman dressed in blue said cautiously. “You need our help?”

Caleb nodded and pointed towards the bodies.

“Help who you can. I’m going after Ikithon.”

Caleb gingerly handed off a sobbing Suni into a tall pink firbolg’s soft hands, who began patting at their hair while a blue tiefling consoled them. The wizard pushed past the group and made towards the doors, but Essek grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“ _ We’re _ going after Ikithon,” he said, with all the gravitas he could muster.

Caleb stared at him, then rushed forward and kissed him fully. Essek could have sworn he heard a whistle from someone in the group, but it didn’t matter. He kissed back with everything he had, before breaking apart, smiling slightly.

“Cayy-leb!” the blue tiefling called over. “Don’t you need us?”

Caleb shook his head.

“Ikithon’s clever. We won’t beat him with force. Essek and I will outsmart him at his own game.”

Essek smirked.

“I was this close to doing that myself, you know,” he teased to Caleb.

Caleb smiled, genuine and good and sweet.

“ _Danke_.”

“I hope I can prove myself to you,” Essek said.

“I believe you already have,  _ mein freund. _ ”

He turned towards the open doors.

“Let us prove ourselves better than Ikithon together,  _ ja _ ?”

Essek squeezed his hand, and the two of them headed outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're coming in on the home stretch, baby!


	18. It Will Come Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh boy

Caleb knew where to find Ikithon. Where else would a man on the verge of losing everything go to find security, other than the one place he felt power the most?

He and Essek rushed through the hallways, which were filled with frantic people running away from the burning party, and just as many guards and mages running towards it in an effort to help. Caleb shoved past the many bodies, and at one point he found that he had taken Essek’s hand in an effort to keep them together. He squeezed it tightly as they turned the corner and were met with the door to Ikithon’s tower. Caleb stopped short, breathing hard, as Essek drew level with him.

“Caleb,” he said softly. He could barely hear the drow over the noise of the people rushing around them. “Are you sure?”

Caleb stared at the door - a simple dark oak, enchanted with many an arcane lock, all of which Caleb had long since known the key to, after so much time spent following in his master's footsteps. The arrogant bastard probably hadn't even changed them.

“ _ Ja _ ,” he reaffirmed. “More than anything.”

Essek nodded. He raised his hands, preparing for a fight, as Caleb stepped forward and reached for the locks.

Nothing was sealed. The door was open.

He cast a nervous glance over to Essek, then turned the handle and pushed the wood forward.

Ikithon had an office where he conducted business, but that was elsewhere within the grounds of the Assembly. This was his personal tower, a place he had only allowed Caleb inside twice, and both times was to teach Caleb a very strict lesson. He winced, now, as he stepped over the threshold to behold an open library, shelves lining the walls top to bottom, but it held no comfort or warmth that Caleb usually associated with such things. Instead, the books here were old, ancient tomes and grimoires filled with nefarious spells and sinister intentions. Not that he had ever managed to touch any of them. No, he was much too busy being led to the upper level of the tower, made to produce spells far beyond his ken, or risk suffering at Ikithon’s hand for being _useless, pathetic, weak –_

“Bren.”

Caleb snapped back into reality as the door slammed shut behind them. The library around him opened up to the raised loft above, where Ikithon now stood, a cold and calculating smile stretched across his pockmarked face.

“I was expecting you’d come,” he said, his tone even. Nothing about his appearance or demeanor betrayed the cornered state Caleb knew him to be in. Beside him, Essek took Caleb’s hand.

“Ah, yes, the star-crossed lovers finally reunite. Such a touching sentiment. I didn’t think you had it in you, Thelyss. Bren, I understand – he always was such a pitifully sentimental pupil. But you? Someone so distant, so cold.”

“Maybe I’ve changed,” Essek countered, taking a step forward. Ikithon remained where he was, and Caleb tugged at Essek’s sleeve. They had to handle this carefully, and blatant threats would not help them now. “Amazing what a small amount of friendship can do to a hardened soul.”

“’Friendship’ is it, then?” Ikithon raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t you learned by now that our dear Bren here is no more your friend than you are my confidant.”

Caleb was glaring at Ikithon, hesitant to speak, but Essek found no such withholdings.

“If I recall, you were the one that lied to me, Ikithon. Playing me from the very beginning. You never wanted what I thought you did.”

Caleb noticed Essek was holding himself a little higher.

“You’re right. I was cold. I thought that I could learn so much that my actions would justify themselves one day.”

“Did they?” Ikithon asked coldly. He scoffed at the brief resistance Essek provided as an answer.

“Let me guess what you are after here, Bren,” Ikithon said as he pressed himself away from the railing and moved towards the stairs. “You and Herr Thelyss believe that you can blackmail me into doing unspeakable things.”

“What is unspeakable about removing someone such as you from power?” Caleb retorted.

A grin spread onto Ikithon’s face.

“Power begets power, Bren. And a lack of it breeds chaos. Say I do step aside. Someone else would fill my place. Possibly even you.”

A chill went down Caleb’s spine at the thought of himself being in Ikithon’s shoes.

“The cycle would continue. This country needs soldiers, Bren. It needs patriots.”

“ _ Verpiss dich! _ ” Caleb hissed. “You’re more loyal to your own gains than anyone in this entire damn country!”

“And yet I am integral part of its inner echelons.” He began to descend the stairs, slowly, one at a time, his long robes just barely drifting across the wooden beams. He looked almost elegant, and Caleb hated it. He was still clinging to Essek’s arm, though neither of them had moved to do anything besides listen to the archmage speak. “You, Bren, I am disappointed with, but Herr Thelyss. You of all people should understand that power is power, regardless of what form it takes. And one cannot achieve more greater power than through incessant, fervent, and unrelenting study.”

He stepped down to their level, though he was still raised above them by the platform that held his desk.

“Why else would you sell such an artifact to the Assembly? Why else would you ignore thousands of deaths for the sake of knowledge?”

He chuckled, a sound that made Caleb’s stomach turn nauseous.

“Take me down a peg if you must. Banish me entirely, it will not matter. You are a dead man if you fire that particular bolt, Herr Thelyss.”

Essek was frozen in place, staring at Ikithon. Caleb stepped forward, linking his arm with the drow’s.

“Not if the entire Assembly goes with you,” he threatened.

Ikithon’s smile turned into a frown.

“You do not have that power.”

“Like _hell_ , I don’t. You’re forgetting an important fact here, Ikithon. I was part of you. For months, I waited, biding my time, learning everything I could. The Beacon was just the dessert.”

_Finally_ , Ikithon was starting to look unsure. His hand wrapped tightly around the edge of the chair nearby.

“I am offering you a choice here, Trent.”

“You _dare_ \- ”

“ _ Ja _ , I do. You can either step down of your own volition. Or Essek and I will destroy all of the Assembly, and you with it.”

The fury was back, the reddening face and the growing rage. But now Caleb was in a position of power. He had information. And most importantly, he had Essek.

“I would advise you to take his offer,” Essek said politely. Beside him, he had folded his fingers together into readying a spell. “I really would understand these things, don’t you agree?”

There existed, for a brief few moments, a time wherein it finally seemed like Caleb would win. That he would gain power over his old master. That things would work out in his favor.

That he could say ‘no’ to Master Trent Ikithon.

Then several things happened at once.

Ikithon raised a bony hand and pointed a finger towards Caleb. On instinct, Caleb raised his own in a hasty reactionary Counterspell.

He felt it fail. He felt Ikithon’s attack pierce through the fragile barrier Caleb had thrown up, the arcane symbols woven delicately into the air _shattering_.

Then he felt himself being physically shoved to the left. He lost his balance and went crashing to the floor as he heard a cry of pain and then, simultaneously, a loud, deafening crunch of wood splintering and heavy books flying and paper tearing as he managed to look up and – 

There was some sort of force, like a sphere of gravity, pulling anything and everything around it towards a small point in its center, wherein each object vanished as if it was crumpled into nothingness.

Caleb watched as Ikithon stumbled back, trying to escape the sphere’s pull, but he was only one old man in the end. He tripped, and tumbled back. The impact his body made with the center was negated as, as he fell, his body began to fold in on itself.

Like a piece of paper.

Caleb wasn’t even sure if he heard him scream.

Then the sphere was gone, along with half the contents of the tower, and its owner. Caleb stared at the spot where Ikithon had vanished for what seemed like an eternity.

A horrible sound of agony pierced his senses, and he looked over to see Essek lying on the ground, clutching at his shoulder.

Caleb ran over to him, lifting him off the ground as he murmured nonsense words under his breath.

“ _ Nein, nein _ , Essek, you will be alright, just hold - ”

He managed to get the drow into his lap, and only now did he see the horrific mark Ikithon’s spell had left on the Essek’s skin. He didn’t know what type of attack it was, nor what damage he was looking at, but it didn’t matter, because Essek was hurting, hissing in pain. His breathing was rapid and heavy, punctuated by terrible rasping noises coming from deep within his broken chest.

“Essek,” he pressed, trying to get the drow’s attention, trying to ground him in this plane, before he could slip away. “Essek,  _ bitte _ .”

Essek blinked up at him, trying to focus through the pain he was in. One of his hands reached out and grasped Caleb’s desperately.

“I am here,” Caleb sobbed, trying to help, trying to do anything, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know healing magic, and Jester was – 

_“Jester_!” he cried to the door behind him but she was miles away, too far, and all he could do was sit there and watch Essek – 

“You saved me,” he murmured into Essek’s ear as his movements began to lessen, his breathing coming up short. “You saved me, so let me return the favor in kind,  _ ja _ ? That is how these things work in this world we live in. I will repay this gift,  _ mein freund _ , I will repay it,  _ bitte _ ...”

He almost didn’t hear the words as they left Essek’s mouth, barely more than a whisper.

“I...I trust you.” Essek sucked in a ragged breath, his hand gripping Caleb’s. “I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the spell Essek's been using this whole time is a real one! it's called Ravenous Void and it's a 9th level Dunamancy spell (thus the whole "high level" references). here's the link to it: http://dnd5e.wikidot.com/spell:ravenous-void  
> it never clarifies what exactly happens when somebody gets "annihilated" so I kinda just....made shit up. a fitting end to one horrible icky person.
> 
> I'm manifesting some Essek tonight!!!!


	19. Arms Unfolding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was so distracted by the hot boi action this past week that i almost forgot to write the rest of this.

Essek was used to the unknown.

He surrounded himself in it every day, whether through the company he kept, unsure if anyone he met didn’t secretly mean him harm, or the books he read in the privacy and security of his own tower. Wherever he went, there were questions, often without answers, and he had made it his goal to seek out those solutions, whatever it took. He knew how to handle being lost.

Which is why now, in this moment, Essek felt  _ afraid _ .

He was adrift in a sea of heavy fog, vaguely aware of his surroundings, his physical body a foreign concept. He didn’t know where he was, when he was.  _ Who _ he was.

He was scared, because this kind of mystery he had never experienced. This kind of unknown spelt terror, for he could do nothing to solve it, nothing to take it apart and break it down.

There was someone, he remembered, who would have helped him do just that, but he couldn’t quite recall. He saw a flash of brilliant ginger hair, maybe a glimpse of piercing blue eyes. There was an impression of soft lips on the edge of his consciousness, and he  _ reached _ , trying to find purchase in the hazy memories that he clung to for fear of losing himself completely in the fog that surrounded him, eager to swallow him whole.

There was a house. The insides of it did not matter, for what was important was the basement. Sealed away by a key, a key which Essek had kept close to his chest for  _ so _ long. There were so many secrets down here, so many things that Essek hid from the world, for if they ever got out, he was a dead man.

And yet somehow, this person, this glimpse of orange and blue and freckles and soft warm skin, they had touched him in a way no one ever had. They had convinced him to give up the key. And it had hurt. Oh, how it had hurt, the way he felt each treacherous word pierce him like a knife, but just as quickly, things were clear again, and the pain from the knives gave way to pain from - 

_ Pain _ . That’s what he was feeling, that’s what was eating him alive. Pain of a spell caught before it could reach its intended target. Pain of an unspoken confession.

Pain of the unknown, digging into him, of being hopelessly and desperately alone in a place where there was no one there to comfort him, no one there to be by his side.

Why did he need it? He had done terrible things. He had lived alone for over a century, and he deserved the isolation. He deserved the punishment that was loneliness, for he was always aware of how irredeemable he was.

But was he? Someone had once told him he wasn’t. Someone who had experienced tragedy beyond measure. Someone who was so like him it was uncanny. Someone who had seen the good in him, seen how he wasn’t defined by his actions, that he was not born with venom in his veins, that he could  _ change _ and be  _ better _ and - 

Essek kicked at the fog around him, for if someone out there believed in him, then it was still worth it to fight.

It took effort. So much strain that he considered giving up, but not if someone was giving him courage, not if they wanted him to  _ live, to be with him again, his name was Caleb and he wanted him to  _ **_live_ ** _ \-  _

Essek crested into consciousness with a series of heavy coughs, like he couldn’t breathe, but the very feel of air in his body, even by force, was a wonderful feeling indeed.

He felt hands on him, gently pushing him down, to keep him from spasming so much he hurt himself, and he accepted the touch. They were large hands, which were met with another pair, these smaller and nimbler. He felt surrounded by healing magic, coming from two sources, one that tasted inexplicably like the herbs his den used to grow in the window boxes, and the other that carried with it the sweet smell of peppermint.

“Settle down, now,” a deep, soothing voice said as Essek’s coughing subsided.

“Yeah, Essek, we’re taking care of you, don’t you worry!” A higher-pitched voice, with a foreign accent that punctuated the utter giddiness in its every word.

His eyes were still closed, and as his head fell back against something soft, he almost didn’t want to open them, content to fade back into slumber if this is what he would be surrounded by.

Then, like a lightning bolt, it all came flying back. The party, the fireball, a sobbing Suni, a conniving Ikithon, and - 

“ _ Caleb!” _

He sat bolt upright, an action he regretted instantly as pain ricocheted down his chest.

“Essek!” the high voice cried in distress. He matched it with the blue tiefling girl who was frantically trying to get him to lie back down. “You’ll hurt yourself! And then Caleb will get  _ mad _ at us and I  _ really _ don’t wanna piss him off, because he gets  _ pr-etty  _ annoyed when - ”

“Where is he?” Essek gasped, grabbing the girl’s hand. “Where is he, is he alright, is he - ?”

“He’s fine, friend.” A pink firbolg appeared to Essek’s left, smiling down on him in a motherly fashion. “Unlike yourself. You really should lie back - ”

“I need to see him,” Essek managed through another burst of pain. He thought he caught a glimpse of something dark and sickly black streaking down his bare chest - oh, Luxon, what had  _ happened _ -

“I’ll get him, Caduceus,” the girl said, standing up, though it was clear she was hesitant to leave Essek’s side.

“Thank you, Jester.” The firbolg guided Essek back down with a firm but loving set of hands. “Now,  _ stay _ . It took you a while to recover. That spell should have killed you, slowly and painfully, but - ”

“Caleb - ”

“Caleb is  _ fine _ . He’ll be happy to see you’re awake.”

Almost on cue, a door across the room - which, Essek realized, was lavish and finely decorated, the bed he lay in a luminous four-poster - opened, and in walked Caleb.

The wizard froze upon seeing Essek awake. He seemed torn between running towards him and running away. Instead, he elected to make his way slowly to Essek’s bedside. Caduceus vacated the chair beside it, making way for Caleb to slide heavily into it, staring at Essek.

“Do you need to stay?” he asked the firbolg, who shook his head.

“He should be fine, so long as he doesn’t try sitting up again.” He shot Essek a look. “I’ll be right next door.”

Caduceus was halfway to the door when Caleb stopped him.

“Maybe...maybe some tea?” he asked quietly. “It - it would calm many nerves.”

Caduceus smiled fondly and nodded, before turning and shutting the door behind him.

There was silence for almost a minute, wherein the two wizards locked eyes, then just as quickly dropped them, playing tag with their gazes until Essek couldn't take it anymore. He opened his mouth to speak, but Caleb beat him to it.

"I - I hope you are well," he said, his accent heavier than normal, thick with emotion. "Caduceus and Jester are excellent healers, but for a time...well, we thought you lost, friend."

He said the words simply and efficiently, betraying his sorrow only through his posture of slumped shoulders and worrying hands. Essek wondered how many times in his life he had had to do this. Conceal his true thoughts in favor of mechanical behavior.

"What spell was it?" Essek asked, trying to ease into the conversation the best way he could - by asking questions.

In response, Caleb laughed, albeit wetly and faint.

"We do not know. Something deadly. Something painful." He rubbed a hand over his face, and Essek noticed a faint line of stubble growing along his chin. "It does not matter now. Now, you are with us once more."

He was trying to put distance between them. Essek could see the action from a mile away - it was a classic maneuver in the world of politics. And for once, instead of accepting it and letting it run its course, he refused the alienation.

He reached out his hand and took Caleb's. The man flinched visibly, but made no move to pull away.

"Ikithon is gone?"

Caleb nodded weakly.

"As far as we can tell."

"And the Assembly?"

Caleb took a small breath.

"They were reeling from the loss of one of their own. They were weak. And in the end, they fell like dominoes once pushed in the wrong direction."

Essek let out a long breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

"So it's done, then? Your mission. What you sacrificed so much for. Just like that?"

"I -" Caleb grasped for words, and then simply settled for squeezing Essek's hand. His voice dropped to a faint whisper.

" _ Ja _ ." He spoke into his lap, not daring to raise his head. "Just like that."

Essek was internally reeling with the idea of the Assembly being purged out while he slept. But there was still something Caleb wasn't telling him.

"Caleb." The wizard curled in on himself at his name. "Caleb, what is it?"

Caleb let loose an involuntary shudder.

"He folded like paper," he whispered. "And the rest...they fled. They might come back one day, who knows, but that's not the point."

"What -"

"They collapsed as if nothing held them up to begin with." Caleb's voice began to grow more fervent. "All that kept them in power was...was  _ fear _ and  _ patriotism  _ and false loyalty and I - I was one of those support beams, Essek. I carried their weight, and I was  _ proud _ of it."

Essek thought back to Suni. To the young student who had done unspeakable things for a power that was nothing more than a shadow, manipulating those within it. Like puppets on strings.

"Caleb, they're gone," he said firmly. "They can't hurt you. You know that, don't you?"

Caleb laughed, louder this time. He shook his head, smiling bitterly.

"They already have. And where does all this leave me? Leave  _ us _ ? Without them, we are  _ nothing _ . Without them -"

There was a knock at the door, and Caduceus entered carrying a floral-patterned tea tray. He placed it on the nightstand and handing each of them a cup.

"A treat from home," he explained. "I figured the Nortons would be happy knowing they're nourishing you, Essek."

Essek stared at the cup in his hands, which smelled delightful. The water was a beautiful color of plums. He glanced over at Caleb, who looked distressed, and took a long sip. It tasted of sweet herbs and spun sugar, and it instantly made him feel ten times better.

"Thank you," he said earnestly. Caduceus nodded and turned to Caleb, who hadn't touched his tea.

"Drink," he ordered. "Else I'll get Nott in here to make you drink it."

The name made Caleb snap out of whatever state he was in, and he took a sip with wide eyes. He shivered as the warm liquid filled him up, and smiled slightly up at the firbolg who, now satisfied, bowed to the both of them and left the room.

As soon as the door closed Caleb sank back into the chair with a heavy sigh. Almost out of spite, he took another large sip of his drink.

"Where are we?" Essek asked, hoping to break the tension.

"The Lavish Chateau," Caleb answered in a tired voice. "Home of Jester's mother. It was the safest place we knew of."

"Perfect for riding the wave of a political coup, yes?" Essek said calmly.

Caleb hiccuped and put his cup down heavily on the nightstand, rattling the porcelain.

"Did you know," Essek began, not entirely sure where he was taking this but determined to go along with it regardless. "That the Assembly did not approach me regarding the Beacon?"

Caleb raised an eyebrow.

"I went to  _ them _ . I knew who they were, what they had done, what they stood for. But I ignored it all, for I was arrogant, and blind to anything but the knowledge I thought I would be gaining."

"What are you saying, Essek?"

"I'm saying that we are both at fault in the eyes of the gods. We both did unspeakable things for a goal that neither of us questioned. Neither of us hesitated. But behind all of it, it wasn't ourselves that was giving us sustenance, feeding our actions. It was  _ them _ ."

He set his tea down gently and did his best to turn towards Caleb. It hurt to even move, but he managed to take both the wizard's hands in his own.

"You told me once that we are both damned individuals," he said slowly, gazing into Caleb's eyes. "But you also told me that we have something. Something that isn't a product of the Assembly."

Caleb sniffed, his eyes growing wet.

" _ Was _ ?" he whispered.

Essek tried his best to move forward, but in doing so, a sharp pain shot through his side, and he doubled over, wincing.

"Are you well?" Caleb asked hurriedly, placing a gentle hand on Essek's back. "I can call -"

"No." Essek looked up. Caleb was  _ right there _ . "I'm…"

The kiss was a simple, easy thing, now that they were closer. It was soft and sweet and carried with it a sense of relief that not even tea could bring. He wanted more, wanted to showcase his affection through so much more than this, but for now, he savored it. For now, he treasured the smallest of touches, for it was better than none at all.

He had lived without this for so long. And that loneliness, it had driven him into the darkest recesses of his mind. Told him to do horrible things. But now, he had someone to hold. Now, he was in the light.

They broke apart with a soft  _ oh _ from Caleb, and Essek finished his sentence in a hushed breath of "...fine."

They smiled at each other. Held each other.

"You and I, friend," Essek stated. "We will go far. And we do not need an Assembly of assholes to drag us down."

Caleb chuckled at the swear. He gasped in a breath, hesitant to pull away.

In the other room, there was a crash, followed by a series of shouts and a string of cackling laughter.

" _ Nott _ !" Jester's voice shrieked. "That's my mom's best jewelry box!"

"She has, like, five of them!" a high-pitched voice squeaked. "And this one was shiny!"

The laughter continued.

" _ Beau _ , tell her!" Jester demanded.

"I -  _ ha _ \- I don't think it's her  _ best -"  _ another voice managed through the laughter. Chaos continued to unfold as several voices began talking at once.

Caleb smiled, genuine happiness on his face for the first time since Essek had met him.

"Have I ever introduced you to the Mighty Nein?"


	20. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *one year later*

“Essek, come here, look at this!”

Essek floated over to where Caleb was perched precariously on a library ladder, holding an open book and scanning its contents with his finger. Essek cocked his head as he looked over Caleb’s shoulder at the pages.

“That’s just simple abjuration magic,” he said, not understanding. “Do you really think it - ”

“Yes, but  _ look _ , here.” Caleb pointed at a particular sigil that had been hand-inked into the corner of the embellished page. “This mage must have seen something in this spell that was more than meets the eye. We can utilize that, and - ”

“ - and combine it with the dunamantic components, yes! This is a good find.” He offered to take the book and Caleb graciously handed it over. Caleb stepped down the ladder as the drow floated back over to the desk that had once again become covered in paper. He figured it was only a matter of time before their work descended to the floor.

“Do you remember last time our work got this out of control?” he asked Essek fondly.

Essek paused in his perusal of some parchment and smiled.

“I believe we were unlocking new ideas from the ruins, were we not?”

Caleb closed the distance between them, encircling Essek’s cool hand with his own.

“We were also doing other things,” he hummed, and Essek laughed.

“Of course we were,” he grinned. “How could I forget?”

They were halfway to each other’s lips when Jester popped her head into the library.

“ _ Cayyy-leb! _ ” she called out, oblivious to the close proximity of the two wizards. “Caduceus has dinner ready!”

Essek was blushing as Caleb turned, trying his best to hide the embarrassed drow.

“We’ll be right down,” he answered.

Jester stayed stubbornly where she was, observing the cluttered desk.

“Do you two ever stop studying?” she asked playfully.

“Well, when knowledge can be obtained…”

“Knowledge can be obtained literally  _ any day _ , Caleb,” Jester pouted.

“That is the point,” Essek mumbled, though not quiet enough for Jester to miss. The tiefling stuck out her tongue at the two of them.

“Well,  _ I’m _ not gonna heat up dinner for you if it gets cold,” she said with a huff. She was almost out the door when she stopped and squinted at Essek.

“ _ Essek _ , are you wearing one of Caleb’s sweaters? That is  _ soooo _ cute!”

The drow, who had only slightly recovered from before, now sank even further into mortification, as Caleb whirled on him and took in his outfit. He was, indeed, wearing one of Caleb’s old sweaters, though at this point it was hard to notice - Essek had long since adopted Caleb’s style of dress, forgoing mantles and dress robes entirely the moment he retired from his Shadowhand duties.

By the time Caleb turned around to tell Jester off for embarrassing them she was already long gone, and he laughed to himself. He turned to Essek, who was looking adorably awful.

“When did you steal that one?” he asked.

“Oh, um...three days ago?” He ducked his head back towards their notes. “I didn’t think you would notice.”

“Essek, I trained under Trent Ikithon to be an expert infiltrator and government asset, and you think I wouldn’t notice when my sweater went missing?”

“Seems to me that I, as someone who has decades more experience navigating the political intrigues of the underbellies of warring factions, would be most excellent at hiding my crimes.” He casually twirled a pencil between his fingers. “Besides, you didn’t notice, so I still win.”

Nott’s squeaky voice wormed its way into Caleb’s ear.

_ Caleb, are you and Essek coming to dinner or not? Jester is seriously worried for your health and Beau still wants to grill him on combat strategy, you know her. Plus, I’ll miss you if you don’t come youcanreplytothismessage. _

Caleb laughed and rested his hand on Essek’s arm.

“Tell Beau to reign it in a little,” he told Nott while winking at Essek. “Besides, I think she can learn a thing or two about subterfuge from him.” He smiled at his lover. “We’re on our way.”

The message ended with a small pop, and Caleb tugged at Essek’s sleeve.

“Come on. The others want to pick your brain.”

Essek hesitated for a few moments, still staring at the pages before him.

“You know, sometimes I find it hard to convince myself that I deserve them,” he said softly. “That I deserve you.”

Caleb softened, and squeezed Essek’s arm tightly.

“I ask myself the same thing. A lot more than I should, really.”

“What do you do?” Essek sounded lost.

“I remind myself that I have grown. And changed. And that in my many adventures I have left the world better than how I found it, and that speaks volumes. More can be said about what we have done in this past year than anything that happened in our  _ lifetimes _ , Essek.”

Essek nodded, and smiled shyly.

“To think,” he breathed. “I once viewed you as my enemy.”

Caleb tilted his face up and kissed him gently, weaving his fingers into Essek’s hair, which was slightly longer now, and more full.

“Then how lucky I am to have gained you as a friend,” he whispered into the kiss.

“I should hope it is more than that,” Essek replied breathlessly.

“ _ Viele _ .”

There was another knock on the library door.

“You know, it really is nice food,” Caduceus said, completely ignoring them as they hurriedly parted. “I worked really hard on it and I would hate for it to go to - ”

“ _ Ja, ja, _ alright,” Caleb said, shaking his head. He turned back to Essek, who was beaming at him. “Are you coming?”

“With you? Anywhere.”

They walked hand in hand towards the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there you have it!!!! it has been *so* much FUN writing this whole thing, y'all. i had such fun writing all the perspectives and the descriptions and the tension and the pining and EVERYTHING. i hope y'all had as much fun reading it as i did writing it. thank you so much to everyone who left kudos, and a special thanks to anyone who commented (i love you dearly and you made waking up every morning to that lovely notification in my emails the best part of my day).
> 
> thank you soooo much, and is it Thursday yet?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm all-made-of-stardust on Tumblr.  
> I have absolutely zero plans for a regular update schedule, so if you're expecting the next chapter and it ain't here, please be patient.  
> Comments are much appreciated, as I have never written anything quite like this before!


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